No Regrets
by BlurtItAllOut
Summary: We follow Kurt and Blaine through their Senior year in high school, and their explorations of being boyfriends, with all that entails. There will be Glee competitions, a music festival, theme parties, politics, fluff, fun, fights, pranks, New Directions, Warblers, new canon characters, a great adventure, someone getting hitched, and so much more. Sequel to Victorious.
1. Summer Days Drifted Away

**AN: This story is a sequel to _Victorious_, and will take us through the boys' Senior year in high school. I hope you will have as much fun reading this as I have writing it. Writing _Victorious_ was such a gratifying experience, and this sequel is my gift to you, as a thank you. I initially didn't plan on writing much more than up to Day of Silence, but the feedback, response, enthusiasm and heartwarming welcome I got for my writing was the sun, water and fertilizer my plot bunny needed to grow. This is a work in progress, indeed, but I wouldn't be surprised if I end up writing 30-40 chapters on this as well... **

**I hope you won't fall asleep!**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own anything.**

* * *

The last summer before graduation is supposed to be special, amazing even. Considering it is Blaine and Kurt's first summer with and as boyfriends, you'd think the summer's guaranteed to be glorious. On the contrary, the school break more often than not felt like a very long and trying endurance test for their patience. Kurt and Blaine didn't get to see each other as much as they had wanted; in fact, sometimes it felt as if they had more quality time together during the busy days at Dalton. Sometimes it felt as if Kurt couldn't stand being on a mundane summer break, when all of him was longing to be with Blaine again. But summer days were also busy days.

Blaine had auditioned at Six Flags, and was tied up with his commitments there. There had been two intense weeks with rehearsals, and then for most of the summer he'd work at least four days a week, sometimes more. His schedule altered between day shifts, afternoons and evenings, and weekends weren't sacred either. From Six Flags opened their gates in the bright morning until they close right before sunset, they ran five performances a day. Blaine had lucked out. The afternoon show was nothing but music. For 45 minutes, he got to do cover versions of really whatever he wanted, as long as his set list was preapproved by the stage manager. For the other shows, he reincarnated Pepe LePew, entertaining the kids with his endless _odorable_ pursuits for Penelope's hand. Kurt had, obviously selflessly, offered to help Blaine with the French accent required.

Kurt had also been busy, helping out in the garage as much as he could. His initial reason and motivation was to give his dad some time off to spend with Carole, considering they spent their honeymoon-money on Kurt's tuition. But with Burt running for Congress, he needed every spare moment possible to focus on his campaign.

With the almost two hours drive between Lima and Columbus, spontaneous and quick visits were simply out of the equation.

Six Flags was situated just outside Columbus, and Kurt had spent some of his days off in the amusement park.

Once with Tina, Mercedes and Rachel, gossiping about cute boys the entire day. The three girls had exaggeratedly acted as Blaine's groupies in front of the backstage entrance, and he'd laughingly invited them in. As the good friends they are, the girls had pretended to be extremely fascinated by the Looney Tunes-costumes, offering Kurt and Blaine some privacy to properly _greet_ each other.

Kurt went once with Finn, and it had been a hysterical day, daring the other to the most insane things – it ended up with Finn throwing up pink cotton candy in a bush, and Kurt feared he had a green taint to his own hue for the next two weeks after too many mechanical gravity-defying spins and swirls.

At least it took him that long before he accepted Nick, Jeff, Wes and David's invitation to tag along to embarrass Blaine at work. The four boys had planned to heckle Blaine's performance, but they ended up rolling on the ground, laughing at their friend in his skunk costume so hard they were unable to come up with anything witty, nevertheless say anything at all.

He also went on his own once, although it was utterly boring in intervals. Fun at amusement parks is meant to be shared. He ended up spending most of his time trying to win Blaine a cute teddy bear, but in the end, he might as well have bought Blaine something instead of spending all that money in the booths. But at least Blaine sought him out whenever he was off duty in between the shows. Even though they didn't hold hands or kiss, it was a lot of fun, and gratifying to spend time with his boyfriend. The centrifugal force from some of the rides pressed one up against the other, and it was nothing boring about that. Listening to Blaine talking animatedly about his latest set while eating ice cream was among the moments Kurt treasured, even though he had seen the show, because he loved to see how vibrant and passionate Blaine was about performing, even after an exhausting, repetitive week.

* * *

Each evening they talked on the phone to bid each other good night, and they'd exchange good morning-texts whenever they started their day. They tried to make it a priority to spend time together during the weekends Blaine didn't work, but sometimes Kurt had to help out in the garage, or Burt insisted on a family oriented weekend. Then Cooper came to visit, and even though Blaine was unable to ask it of him, Kurt understood what he really wanted, and commanded Blaine to spend the weekend with his big brother, doing their own special brand of brotherly bonding activities.

As a result, Cooper took them to the airport, where they jumped on the first flight with two available seats, and thus ended in Charlotte, North Carolina. The brothers had done some serious shopping, as they with Cooper's impulsive streak didn't pack much. Blaine had texted Kurt snippets of his experiences, about Cooper ordering him wine for dinner, their childlike fun at the Discovery Place, the kick ass concert with some local rock heroes they stumbled upon, and Cooper's stint at going back to his roots and taking Blaine to see _The Tempest_ following a passionate speech about the grandeur of one William Shakespeare.

Kurt followed his own advice, and suggested to Finn they hang out. They ended up taking Kurt's Navigator to a reservoir, where they stayed the night in an old tent from when Finn's was young. They fished, something Finn enjoyed and Kurt found disgusting when it came to the gutting, but the trout tasted delicious even if it was prepared primitively over a storm kitchen. They giggled a bit when they compared the fish to pictures of Sam on Finn's phone. They looked nothing alike. In the evening, they made s'mores over the open fire, and talked about everything and nothing in particular. They opened some unhealed wounds, and talked it out. They talked about their dreams for the future, pros and cons to getting out of Ohio, they talked about how happy Kurt was with Blaine, and they talked about how confused Finn was over his relationship with Quinn. They were more asleep than awake when they finally crawled into their sleeping bags in the tent.

Then came the day Mr. Anderson wanted to take his sons on vacation, and they went on a cruise in the Caribbean. Blaine didn't have any reception on his phone, and it was the longest ten days in both boys' lives. No matter how badly they had wanted Kurt to come along, they maturely understood the importance of quality family time. Kurt was always welcome to the Anderson home in Columbus, and Blaine's dad had made an obvious effort to get to know Kurt personally, showing he took their relationship seriously. It wasn't the same open, easy and unquestioned inclusion Blaine had been met with; a warm hug from Carole, a "call me Burt, kiddo," and then no more awkward fussing over the fifth family member. Devon Anderson wasn't a Burt Hummel or Carole Hudson, but with his own manners, he made Kurt feeling nothing but welcome.

* * *

It felt as if the summer consisted of nine parts work days and one part weekends, but they cherished and treasured the time spent together. Blaine would spend the entire weekend in Lima, if his dad was out of town on business. He was already considered part of the family, and fell easily into the rhythm of their everyday activities and chores. He even almost lost the habit of addressing Kurt's dad as Mr. Hummel. He had to sleep on the couch, but they didn't care as long as they got to spend time together: Silently stealing kisses and the other's breath while a movie played in the background in Kurt's room. Finn told Kurt it was easier to make out to action movies, because the explosions would drown out most sounds. Sometimes, Finn was the best brother in the world.

They were still taking it slow with the physicality of their relationship. Kissing, making out, hands venturing strictly above the belt, and eventually a daring hand slipping under the fabrics covering skin. But it was also blushing, gasping for air, and rapid tearing apart to focus intently on the TV-screen for a while. With the hot summer weather, came also thinner and fewer layers, and the simple concept of spooning was suddenly so much more exciting, because it was easier to feel more. To feel the dips and curves, the pronounced and the soft, the contours and the lines.

Some days were spent at the Anderson home. Ella, the house keeper, would pop by at random moments if Mr. Anderson wasn't home, so they were never quite safe in the knowledge of being alone. But they really didn't have those kinds of needs. They were happy just spending time together. Making dinner together, or testing a recipe Kurt found for homemade blackcurrant sorbet, with berries from the Anderson garden. They'd lie down together in the hammock, alternating who was the bigger spoon. The sun was scorching, and they were sweating simply from breathing, and being cuddled close shouldn't be comfortable, but they still wanted and needed to.

July 4th was initially spent in the Hudmel house. Mr. Anderson was invited over for dinner, and the six of them spent a few hours enjoying the delicious meal Carole, Kurt and Blaine had prepared.

Just like at New Year's, David was hosting a party for the Warblers. Santana tried to talk Rachel into throwing a party in the Berry basement, but she was of course Wes' date to David's party. Puck thought he could score them somewhere to be, and it worried Kurt. David probably understood Kurt felt conflicted about which group of friends to choose. So he made it easy by extending the invitation to New Directions as well. He'd offhandedly commented it would be nice for the all boys-school attendants to see some girls. Kurt didn't think inviting two lesbians and four girls in straight relationships were what the boys fantasized about. David could be down with logic like that, as he said, and had swiftly invited the girls from their sister school too, St. Elizabeth's.

Kurt had been prepared to beg and bribe his dad to be allowed to go to the party. Burt had simply sighed.

"I guess that's how it's gonna be soon. I'd better get used to my little boy growing up and making his world bigger. No alcohol and fireworks combined, okay?"

It was actually Mr. Anderson who had put his foot down, jeopardizing their party attendance.

"Burt and Carole invited us for dinner. It simply isn't polite to skip merrily off after dessert to look for other fun somewhere else."

Blaine had dejectedly agreed and told Kurt, who explained to Finn why he'd have to go alone. Finn had told Carole, who in turn had a few words with Mr. Anderson. Nobody knew what she had said, but it had worked.

"I was perhaps a bit harsh on you, Blaine. You're young enough to want to have fun, but sometimes I forget you're also old enough to have your own networks and obligations." Translated from Mr. Anderson-business-code to Mr. Anderson-dad-efforts it meant _go see your friends, grow up, make sensible choices, and don't forget me on your journey to adulthood_.

The party was a success, in many ways. Santana and Brittany spent most of the night dancing closer than Babe and Johnny ever did, making out and not giving a damn. Kurt smiled fondly at them when he noticed Flora looking at them wide eyed. He saw longing, but also something looking like admiration. He pulled Blaine out on the dance floor, next to Nick and Jeff. With Sharon dancing with her boyfriend David, Lana didn't have her sister available as her go to-dance partner.

"You have unhappy feet," Brittany told Lana in passing. "You should dance with the pretty flower," she said, nodding towards Flora.

Kurt was kind of in love with Brittany then, and her oblivious perception. Flora looked like she'd fallen down from the moon, and he winked at her over Lana's shoulder.

* * *

Fortunately, Mr. Anderson stuck to his promise about helping the Hudmel's with the campaign for Congress, which led to frequent visits to Lima. Blaine tagged along as often as possible. Kurt and Blaine would sit around the dining table with the grown ups, listening to the strategies, and adding their five cents of worth. It was Blaine who suggested Burt use twitter to communicate more instantly, (carefully planned out) spontaneously, efficiently and rapidly with the younger segment of his potential voters. Kurt patiently taught him to tweet with his phone, but also made sure to have access to his dad's account so he could assist him on the social media-part of his PR work.

Kurt and Blaine even contributed with cases and legislation from other states and from European countries concerning LGBTQ rights. It was, after all, part of the platform Burt run on.

When the strategy meetings turned to money talk and plotting dates for meetings, debates and appearances, Kurt and Blaine would politely excuse themselves, and retreat to Kurt's room. If they were lucky, their parents would stay up long into the night plotting, before remembering both they and their sons should be in bed by now. Spending the next day inhaling coffee and squinting through narrow eyes was worth it, when it consequently came from getting a few extra hours together.

* * *

Right before summer ended, Puck invited to a pool party. One of his clients was on vacation, and had booked him to clean their pool while they were away. Puck being Puck had decided they might as well throw a party before he did the job. None of the New Directions-members lived in homes with big enough gardens for a pool, so it was a welcomed luxury. They spent the entire day barbequing, eating fruit and snacks, sun bathing and playing in the pool. Blaine was obviously invited in the capacity as Kurt's boyfriend, so was Wes as Rachel's boyfriend, and thus came also David, Nick and Jeff.

Kurt grew suspicious when he saw Puck munching on a watermelon the boy had placed carefully on the table. Kurt would have expected him to be clawing barbarically on spareribs, or downing a beer from the keg he brought.

"I carried a watermelon!" he enthusiastically yelled.

Kurt was right in being suspicious about the melon. Unfortunately, Blaine had already eaten a couple of slices when it came out in the open that it was a vodka soaked watermelon. Kurt had been furious about the incognito booze, while Puck insisted it was the only way to eat watermelon, and anybody older than 13 knew that.

Blaine, being a lightweight and out in the burning sun, was already fairly tipsy, and Kurt decided that maybe he didn't need to drink any of the beers. Blaine agreed, but promised he wasn't upset with Puck, how could he be when he felt so fantastic? Kurt sighed exaggeratedly, and warned him playfully against kissing Rachel.

"Why would I kiss Rachel? Wes isn't going to kiss you," he argued, and Kurt wasn't sure if it was a compliment, until his boyfriend continued. "Nobody but me gets to kiss you. You're awesome. And only mine, at least as long as you want me. Do you want to be my boyfriend even though I'm a bit fruity loopy?"

At that, Kurt could only laugh, and he reassured Blaine he still wanted to be his boyfriend, while steadying him.

"Awesome," Blaine whispered, and leaned in to kiss Kurt. He lost his balance, and pushed Kurt against the wall, locking him there with heavy arms on his shoulders, and kissed him senseless. Kurt wanted to object, but part of him _liked_ this loose Blaine, part of him _enjoyed_ being at a summer party with his friends and acting like one of them – a normal teenager with a hot boyfriend. Part of him was also slightly mortified, but it was so easy to drown in Blaine. Maybe it had been something in the diet coke he'd been nursing?

So Kurt wrapped one hand around Blaine's neck, digging his fingers into his boyfriend's curls, loose and moist from an earlier dip in the pool. The other hand landed on his hip, thumb playing with the naked skin where his shirt rode up. Blaine pushed a leg in between Kurt's, and it was impossible to hide how much they enjoyed kissing, but it didn't feel as terrifying to feel and acknowledge it now as it had been so far in their relationship. Maybe they really were drunk, the both of them? No, they couldn't be, because Kurt was still aware of their surroundings, and he used both of his hands to steady Blaine and separate their hips somewhat. He didn't interrupt their kissing, though, and tried to give as good as he got, but then Blaine nosed under his jaw, tilting Kurt's head to the side, and starting laving and sucking at his neck. Kurt wasn't so sure he would be able to stay on his feet for much longer.

Their impromptu make out-session didn't go unnoticed and garnered reactions from their friends. Everything friendly and encouraging, though. Or, you know, as friendly as Kurt's friends could be when they put their wicked hearts to it.

"Didn't know you had it in you, Blanderson. Me gusta!" Santana hollered from her sun bed, sprawled next to Brittany.

"That's _hot_," Lauren stated at the same time as her… Puck… yelled at them to "get some."

Mercedes and Tina giggled, waving at Kurt, who could have seen them over Blaine's shoulder if he hadn't been so distracted by Blaine's lips and hands.

"Get a room, y'all," Artie snickered as he rolled past them in the ugliest shorts ever made.

Eventually, Kurt's modesty overruled, and he managed to steady Blaine back on his own feet, both boys panting and looking slightly wild at each other. Blaine reached out a hand to run a finger over a spot on Kurt's neck, which most definitely would turn into a hickey.

"I'm sorry," he said, smiling crookedly, and looking anything but.

"Come on, Blainers, I think you need to cool down," David had advised, dragging the Warbler with him to the pool.

Kurt sunk down into one of the sun beds, knees weak, wondering if it was possible to get drunk from kissing someone's vodka lips.

"I take it everything's fine between you," Nick winked, and offered him a high five.

Kurt cleared his voice, and put on his sunglasses from his pocket.

"We're way better than _fine_. We're fabulous," he snorted, answering Nick's five.

"That's my boy," Nick giggled.

Kurt spent some time pretending to relax, adding random comments to the conversation going on around him between Santana, Brittany, Jeff and Nick. The truth was, his eyes were fixed on the pool, where Blaine and most of the boys were busy with some kind of volley-polo-basket-wrestling-combo. They were in the pool and out of the pool, they were running and swimming, sitting on each other's shoulders and ducking each other under water. They were using five ping pong-balls, and Kurt didn't even try to imagine the rules. What he did, was checking out his boyfriend discreetly through his dark Ray Bans.

Throughout the summer, Blaine's pants had crept up and further up his legs. From his high cuffed pants showing off some ankle, to shorts ending just below his knee caps. In similar ways, he'd reduced the layers, and more and more of his arms had been visible day by day. Then the bowties went, and he had been leaving the first buttons unbuttoned or wearing v-necks, giving Kurt a sneak peak to neck, throat, clavicle, the hints of chest hair and more. But now Blaine was strutting around shirtless, and with swim shorts that stopped mid thigh. And it was impossible not to stare, but Kurt was of course too much of a gentleman, and maybe also still too shy and awkward about bodies and nakedness and things that could lead to thinking about sex. So he only let himself really look when he was resting nonchalantly with his sunglasses, surrounded by friends he was faking a conversation with.

He should have known better than to let his guard down around Santana.

"Hey, Hummel? We all know what big, dark sunglasses are used for. Your spying days are over. Let go of the fake eyes, so you can get a proper look of your mandy."

"Mandy?" he said, trying to avert attention from being caught red-handed staring at his boyfriend.

"Man candy," Santana rolled her eyes as if it was obvious.

Kurt had blushed, fumbling with the sunglasses, and mumbling something incoherently.

"Listen, Lady Hummel," the Latina had interfered his awkwardness. "You're entitled to appreciate your man. I can't blame you, either, good job landing a piece of ass like that. I'd say I hope you're a top, but I've seen the pants you wear, so I'll say I hope you both switch."

Kurt hadn't needed any assistance from the sun to shine bright red at that, groaning and squirming in his bed. He'd have fled for the pool to cool down, if it wouldn't look as if he flew to Blaine.

"Kurt," Santana had sad softly, uncharacteristically using his first name and leaning in, while Brittany explained to Jeff and Nick about dolphins, "look around you and take in the number of couples here. Then study how they act around each other. Then remember we're still your friends even though you've been away to Gay Fantasy #17 since November. Nobody cares. And I know what kind of shit you're dealing with in this world, but you should be safe among your friends. If this isn't a place to unwind, where is?"

Kurt hadn't known what to say, so he'd fumbled out a thank you, hugged her briefly, which Brittany enthusiastically joined, before heading to the food table for something cold to drink.

He discussed with himself whether to try one of Rachel's pink wine coolers or another diet coke – he was 18 now, it was the summer before his Senior year, he's allowed to live a little. But they'd need someone to drive later on, and he didn't particularly enjoy the idea of sleeping in a stranger's house without their permission.

"You having fun?" Finn asked from next to him.

Kurt looked at him closely. He'd broken it off with Quinn earlier in the summer, explaining he didn't love her like she deserved. She'd been furious at first, but then accepted it with the grace only she could soar with. Finn, on the other hand, had seemed heartbroken, and Kurt had spent some late evenings with him and two mugs of hot milk. Finn loved Quinn, but probably more as a friend than a future partner, and their dissimilarities were showing more and more. He wanted to be happy, and he wanted to make a relationship work. But he couldn't with her. Kurt had supported him, and sworn never to tell anyone he'd seen Finn cry. He'd told his new brother that he deserved to be happy, and sometimes being responsible for your own happiness meant doing difficult things like breaking up with someone. Kurt had told Finn he was strong for doing it, and that he had better things waiting for him in the future.

"I am," Kurt said, smiling honestly. It was a good party. Nobody so drunk it was embarrassing or difficult to keep a conversation. Everyone was just pleasantly buzzed or entirely sober, and enjoying this summer day.

"And you?" he asked in return, eyes quickly darting over at Quinn talking with Tina and Lauren.

"I'm cool," Finn said. "I'm keeping it low, to keep an eye on Puck and make sure he doesn't do anything to jeopardize his business."

"That's sweet of you."

"Yeah, well…" Finn had said, scratching his neck and looking shy. "I also saw you and Blaine, earlier."

"Oh God, I'm sorry you had to see that. I'm sure you don't want to see your brother acting like that, and we were being completely disrespectful rubbing our gayness all over, and…!"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Finn interrupted, physically shaking Kurt by the shoulders. "That's not what I meant, _at all!_ You saw me with Quinn plenty of times after we became brothers. And seriously, worrying about rubbing your gay in? I thought we were past that," Finn said, sounding hurt.

"I'm sorry, I…"

"No, just let me freaking say this, okay?"

Kurt blinks repeatedly at his agitated brother, but keeps his mouth shut.

"I just wanted to say I think it was cool to see Blaine and you like that. Not because I'm some creepy perv, but because I haven't seen you like that before."

"Like what?" Kurt asked nervously, wondering if Finn was thinking about adjectives like drunk, horny, reckless, shameless.

"You looked so carefree, as if your guards were finally down, and you just let it all go, and simply _was_ for a while. I want that for you, you know. You deserve happiness too."

"Thank you, Finn," Kurt murmured, and felt embarrassed for completely new reasons.

"And don't get mad, but I talked with Burt about the two of you. I told him how you never hold hands or kiss or grope or… No, I didn't say grope," Finn hastily adds at Kurt's mortified expression, "but I tried to explain how you didn't act like boyfriends when I've seen the two of you around in Lima. So I asked him if maybe he shouldn't be so harsh on your curfew. I didn't tell him, but I know you sometimes park somewhere dark to make out after your date. I've seen you when I've snuck in from my own dates, and my room has a view to the curb."

Finn's right. They'd often end a date in a frantic lip lock in the car, as if to make up for all the hours spent together not touching or kissing. Sometimes they lost track of time, and Kurt came home later than promised. Not by much, never more than half an hour. But Burt rarely said anything. And he didn't say anything when Kurt and Blaine spent hours and hours in his room. Not that Kurt would ever do anything like _that_ while his dad was around, but he'd expected him to check in on them, be a bit weird about Kurt's first boyfriend, or _something_. But no, Carole and he'd even knock before entering if they had something to say. Burt was being really laidback, and not the _I have a shotgun in my closet if you touch my innocent kid-_kind of dad.

And Finn had contributed to that?

Kurt flung his arms around his taller brother, engulfing him in a warm hug.

"Thank you! Just… Thank you!"

* * *

The uniform clad elephant wasn't mentioned directly for most of the summer. Blaine was being a true gentleman, stating he'd support Kurt no matter which decision he made for his Senior year. Still, it was impossible to avoid the topic completely, when one of them during a particularly hot July day would reminisce about the nocturnal snow fight when the first snow came. It was impossible not to think about what could change their Senior year, when Blaine for a moment forgot, and mentioned a duet they should audition with for Sectionals. Kurt never said anything, but simply kissed Blaine and thus turned the conversation – or focus – in a new direction.

Keeping the question about the transfer silent between them, didn't mean Kurt didn't spend a lot of time thinking about it when he was on his own. It was after all a big decision to make. Everyone in New Directions knew about Karofsky's transfer, and they were all rooting for Kurt to come back. They were far from discreet and subtle, and not displaying an ounce of patience. The topic would always come up in conversation, no matter who he met and for what occasion. Tina and Mercedes staged a Gleentervention to convince him to come back

Through Rachel, Wes knew about Kurt's new possibilities, and thus the entire Warbler Council knew. Wes had told Kurt they appreciated his uniqueness as a countertenor, and had been looking forward to an entire school year with his particular quality. Then his professional Council façade had cracked, and he'd told Kurt what a good friend he was, and how much he'd be missed.

Kurt found it to be honest and the right thing to do, telling Jeff and Nick about his former enemy's leave. They'd looked at him with disbelief when they finally understood he was seriously considering his options. What about them? What about the Warblers? What about their plans and dreams for a fantastic Senior year? And what about Blaine and their relationship?

He spent time talking through his pro et cons with his dad and Carole. Initially he though it would be an obvious decision to go back to McKinley because of money. But Burt had reassured him it wasn't something to worry about. If Kurt wanted another year at Dalton, they'd make it happen. Kurt's wellbeing was by far more important than anything else, and he might have a saving account with Kurt's name on it – literally. When Elizabeth died, the life insurance money was deposited on an account Kurt would be given access to after high school. But considering he was 18, and circumstances led to him needing money, Burt wouldn't stop him from using it for a year at Dalton. Burt and Carole would also try to contribute. If Kurt decided on spending his Senior year in Westerville, they could work out some kind of down payment, from father to son, as the older Hummel was insistent on helping his son through high school, at least.

It was a generous offer, and it took the older Hummel some time to make sure Kurt stopped adding money to his list when weighing his options. When money finally was no longer an issue, it was simply a matter of deciding what his heart was set on. It would of course influence his economic situation when he went for college, but Kurt hadn't expected to go off to (hopefully) New York with a brimming bank account anyway.

He had missed his friends at McKinley, but he had made new friends at Dalton he'd miss. No matter what, he couldn't spend his final year in high school with all of his friends. He would be far from his Lima friends, but if he stayed at Dalton, he'd see so much to Blaine he could spend more of the weekends with New Directions. He'd see less to his family as well, but with Burt campaigning for Congress, he wouldn't be much home until the election in November – and if Burt was elected, that would keep him away from home even more.

Going back to McKinley might help Kurt keep a better GPA, but he loved the intellectual and academic challenges offered at Dalton. It was one of the things he'd complained to Mr. Schue when the man had tried to care for and figure out Kurt. The Dalton name might probably contribute to some plus points in itself.

But if he went back to McKinley, he could apply to college as member of a team that won Nationals. Not that Kurt had been on the team at the time… But Rachel has that maniac gleam in her eyes, and stated she would do everything in her power to win Nationals again, and handpick her successor to lead New Directions to three more victories, and thus beat Vocal Adrenaline's four consecutive National trophies. Ambition like that could be something to be a part of, Kurt muses, while remembering Blaine's reassurances during the live streaming that they'd be at Nationals themselves next year.

It wasn't an easy choice, but it was an easy decision when he'd thought it through. His brain and heart both knew what he wanted.

The difficulty was to tell all of his friends where he'd be next year. The summer which once seemed so slow paced and difficult to endure, seemed to suddenly rush away from him, and within soon school was starting up again.


	2. Fluffy Unicorns

**WOW! It's so much fun to write, when the response I get is this crazy, already with a lot of reviews and followers and favourites - thank you so much for having faith in me, and deciding to join me on this new journey with our boys!**

**I'm going away on a vacation in less than a week, and will be gone for ten days, with absolutely no possibilities for any writing. And I intend to enjoy this vacation with good friends, after a rough and busy year. But I will be back as soon as possible, older and rested, brimming with inspiration, and flowing with new chapters to write.**

**Warning: Use of slur in this chapter. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, but I'm humbled and grateful for the possibility to play with it.**

* * *

"Dad, can we talk?"

Burt looks away from the sport summaries on the TV, giving Kurt one of his patented patient and caring looks.

"Of course, Kiddo."

He mutes the running sports commentary, and Kurt slides across the room to sit down in the couch. Burt is relaxing in his usual recliner, feet resting on a stool, and a bowl of carrot sticks within easy reach on the table. Previously provided by Hummel Jr. Kurt leans against the armrest, and plants his feet on the couch, wrapping his arms around his knees, faced towards Burt.

"I know you said it was my decision to make, but I still want your support," he murmurs.

"This about your Senior year?" he enquires softly, and Kurt nods. "I can't tell you what to do, but I can try to help you with the pluses and minuses on those lists you like to make."

"I know, Dad," Kurt smiles, loving his father a little bit more for each day. "And, I think I've made up my mind. But I want you to be okay with it."

"You _think_ you've made up your mind?" Burt looks pointedly at him.

"Fine, I have made a decision. I've been weighing my options, considering the pros et cons, setting some goals for my high school graduation and future."

"I don't doubt you've given it a thorough working through," Burt smiles fondly at him.

"And you're sure you're okay with the school I've landed on, no matter which one it is?"

"I am," he answers calmly. "There are good reasons to pick either, and both are valid options, nothing should stop you from picking the one _you want_, and not what you think you ought to do to make someone else happy or avoid hurting them."

"I… Thank you."

"You gonna tell me?"

"Yeah," Kurt exhales, feeling nervous. Saying you're okay with something isn't the same as being okay with it when reality hits you in the face.

"Hold on a sec, Kiddo," Burt grins, and gets up from his chair. He walks over to the bookshelf, and picks up one of the photo albums, opens it, and takes out an envelope.

"The day you told me about Karofsky transferring and your new possibilities, I made a bet with Carole how well I know you. I wrote on a page from that day's newspaper – so you'll know I'm not pulling your leg – which school I thought you'd choose."

Kurt looks curiously at him, eyes darting between the envelope in his dad's hand and his face.

"I don't care if you say something else than what I wrote down. I just think I know my own kid."

He drops the envelope, and it glides on the couch, stopping right in front of Kurt's feet.

"Just promise me you have confidence in your decision, not letting anyone – including me – making you doubt it."

"I do, Dad. I won't."

"Good, then. No regrets."

Kurt grabs the envelope, and tears it carefully, pulling out the newspaper page, unfolding it, until he finds his dad's messy writing, in big letters across the entire page.

"It's… You're right, Dad!" Kurt grins, leaping up to hug him.

* * *

"Excuse me, I'm seeking a Mr. Kurt Hummel, I was told he runs this establishment?"

Kurt rolls his eyes as he also beams in delight, eavesdropping on his ridiculous boyfriend who just entered the garage, and is being a smartass on his behalf with Eric, who's operating the reception at the moment.

"And pray, who may I say is asking for him?" Eric answers, putting on a haughty, posh tone that is far from his usual laidback and down to earth-manners.

"That would be Mr. Blaine Anderson."

Eric does a double take, and a shit eating grin is immediately plastered across his face.

"Oh, so you're the little boss' boyfriend!"

Kurt blushes instantly, and he decides he needs to interrupt before any permanent embarrassing damage is done. He can't roll out from under the car and move towards the reception quickly enough, though.

"That seems accurate," Blaine smirks, and oh, Kurt knows he's so going to hear about being _the little boss_ later. Just because the guys playfully nicknamed him a decade ago, doesn't mean he wants his boyfriend to know about it. He wonders how Cooper would cooperate if Kurt called him to dig out anything to hold against Blaine, just in case. He gets up, and wipes his hands on a rag to get the worst of oil and dust off.

"Well, you know how the management of finer establishments like these can be. All work, very busy, no time for any canoodling during opening hours," Eric says sadly.

"It's been known to happen, yes, that's why I've brought an intervention."

"Intervention?" Kurt asks curiously, as he enters the cleaner waiting area and the reception desk.

"Hi there," Blaine murmurs softly, completely forgetting about Eric, eyes for nobody else but Kurt.

"Hey," Kurt smiles, hoping he doesn't look too bad after spending the better part of the day in intimate situations with a wide range of cars, bent over their hoods or crawling under them. "I'll be taking fifteen minutes now, Eric," he says, and gestures for Blaine to follow him behind to the work area.

"Only fifteen?" Eric snorts, but waves him off. "As if I never was young and in love back in the old days," he mumbles, grinning.

"Where are you taking me, _Little Boss_?" Blaine smirks.

"I'm not that little," Kurt objects indignantly.

"That's what he said!" someone shouts from under a car, and someone else honks a car horn playfully in amused appreciation.

"Oh my God," Kurt groans, burying his face in his hands. "You're already getting me in trouble in my own workplace."

"No," Blaine objects playfully. "No, that was entirely your doing."

Kurt, walking in front of him, flips him off without turning.

"I just love the amount of class this place rubs off on you," Blaine purrs.

Kurt opens a door in the back, and they step outside to a small patio, with a bunch of mismatched chairs, a backless bench, some potted summer flowers, half a dozen dirty coffee mugs scattered on a table, and a brimming ash tray.

"Boys," Kurt sighs, and gathers the mugs to one side of the table, sitting down by the other end. Blaine straddles the bench Kurt is on, and he flips a leg over to mirror Blaine's position, leaving them face to face.

"Not that I mind, but what are you doing here?"

"My dad asked if I could pick up some campaign material from the print shop, and bring it to Columbus before that debate tonight. I was sufficiently forward thinking to calculate enough time in my busy, busy schedule to drop by and see if there were any cute grease monkeys around," Blaine grins, looking very pleased with himself.

"Sorry to disappoint you," Kurt snorts.

"Au contraire. You always exceed my expectations," Blaine says softly.

Kurt blushes, preens, and deflects by adjusting the bandana tied around his head to keep his bangs away when he works.

Blaine accepts his silence, and continues the conversation.

"I don't know when you had lunch, but I brought us a little something." He opens his satchel, and takes out a thermos, two steel mugs and a plastic container.

"Ooh, what have you been up to?" Kurt asks enthusiastically.

"Ella is teaching me to work my way around in the kitchen. She firmly believes the way to a man's heart goes through his stomach, and fears I will lose you if you find out how terrible I am at cooking."

"I already know you're a terrible cook," Kurt teases fondly. "I'm still here, though."

"Well, it doesn't hurt to improve my odds, right?" Blaine winks, and pours the content of the thermos. "Homemade lemonade," he presents, offering Kurt the steel mug.

"Thank you," Kurt murmurs. "Just a minute, I need to do something with this scorching sun."

Kurt unzips his coveralls to the waist, peals off the sleeves, and ties them securely around his stomach. It's too hot for the thick protecting clothing. He's wearing a tank top under.

"There," he sighs, rolling his neck and shimmying his shoulders. "I think it's full now," he says dryly, watching Blaine pouring lemonade in his own mug, flooding it over. His eyes are locked on Kurt.

"Shit," Blaine hisses, jumping away to avoid spilling on his pants.

Kurt smiles amused, and gets up to grab a big roll of paper towels just behind the door, by the sink. Blaine accepts it gratefully, and cleans up his mess.

"Where was your mind," Kurt teases.

"I… You…"

"What?" Kurt looks self-consciously and uncomfortably at himself, wondering if he looks that horrible with coveralls and his hair tucked away.

"You can't suddenly look like that, and expect all of my capacities to function perfectly fine," Blaine whispers hoarsely.

"What?" Kurt asks again, voice shriller as he wraps his arms protectively around his torso.

"No! No, no, no, no, no," Blaine rushes, scooting closer. An arm hovers hesitantly over Kurt, before carefully resting on his bare shoulder. "You look good, Kurt. Like, really good," he swallows, and rubs his thumb on Kurt's warm skin.

Kurt's stiff posture relaxes somewhat, and he looks curiously at Blaine.

"You're adorable in a rough and different and cool way in your coveralls. But right now, unzipped and wrapped like that, and nothing but this under," Blaine says, flipping at Kurt's broad shoulder strop, "that's really, really hot. And…" Blaine laughs bashfully, and ducks his blushing face.

"And?" Kurt prods more eagerly, leaning closer, and rests his hands on Blaine's knees.

"Umm, you have this smudge of oil or something on your nose, and…"

He doesn't get to finish that sentence before Kurt yelps and covers his nose with a hand, frantically grabbing for paper with the other. Blaine moves the roll further away from him, and removes the hand on his nose with the other.

"No," he says softly. "I like this Kurt too."

Kurt senses there's something more Blaine isn't saying, but he doesn't push for it. His shoulder is cold where Blaine isn't touching him anymore.

"I really want to kiss you now," Blaine says instead.

"I think you should."

So he does.

It starts out as a sweet, closemouthed kiss. But then Kurt scoots closer, legs overlapping, and Blaine puts his hands on Kurt's shoulders again, and hums against his lips. It's enough for Kurt to smile into the kiss, part his lips somewhat, and Blaine takes the invitation, deepening the kiss. He runs his hands slowly up and down Kurt's arms, and kisses him more eagerly. Kurt is beginning to consider if Blaine may have a thing for his arms. Blaine's eagerness is making Kurt feel too passive and boring, though, so he boldly rests his hands on Blaine's thighs and leans in.

"I've missed you," Blaine sighs.

"You saw me three days ago." Beat. "I've missed you too."

Blaine gives him a last peck, and turns to the plastic container, smiling giddily.

"Okay, so to prove that I'm worth keeping, you're the first after Ella - she's my beefeater, to test if these are okay." He lifts the lid, and shows the box to Kurt.

"Have you made me granola bars, Blaine?" Kurt smiles awed.

"Yeah. Ella wasn't sure if it constituted as cooking yet, but it's a start, and I wanted to make you something healthy. You claim cookies is a weekend indulgence, so… I considered making a fruit salad, but I wanted to actually use the oven to prove I can cook," Blaine winks.

Kurt giggles. He has all the faith in the world that Blaine can be a decent cook eventually, but he's never had to make his own food or take charge in a kitchen, when the Anderson's have a housekeeper to do that. He's good at making sandwiches and defrosting leftovers in the microwave. Whenever they've cooked together, he's done a decent job, though. He just needs some more confidence and basic skills. While Kurt, he's spent years in the kitchen, memorized recipes and developed close familiarity with utensils and ingredients, and can whip up plenty of meals with the help of random ingredients from the fridge.

"You're s silly," he smiles, and helps himself to a bar. "Mmm, yummy," he moans. "And you made me lemonade. Best boyfriend!"

"Gotta take care o' ma man," Blaine drawls playfully, nudging Kurt's foot with his own.

Kurt shakes his head, but smiles at him.

"There's something I need to tell you," he says. "I wanted you to hear it face to face, and not over the phone, even though I made up my mind two days ago. I've let Dad know too."

"Is it… Is it about school?"

"Yeah."

"You know I'll support you no matter what, but God Kurt, you have to tell me," Blaine pleads.

"Remember we discussed this the last time you spent the night with us?"

"As if I tend to forget the things we talk about," Blaine murmurs, taking Kurt's hands in his.

"And I told you which school I was leaning towards," Kurt continues unfazed. Blaine nods. "Well, I'm sticking to that decision."

"Oh…"

* * *

"Is it weird being here again?" Rachel asks him, as they walk down the corridor towards her locker.

Kurt hasn't been to McKinley since Regionals, and it still strikes him how much he can forget in the span of only a few months.

"Yes. It doesn't feel like the home it used to be," he adds, suppressing what a dysfunctional and abusive family life he sometimes had to endure here.

"It's weird seeing you here too," Rachel admits, and takes his hand. "But it's good too. I just wish…"

"Kurt!" Tina beams, and gives him a quick hug, before looping her arm around his other elbow and walking in sync with them.

It's the first day of the new school year at McKinley, and everyone is bubbling with excitement, enthusiasm and anticipation. New beginnings are always thrilling, like a possibility for a new bout of New Year's resolutions, and Rachel can hardly restrain herself. She's determined to make the most of her Senior year, to impress whichever colleges she applies to.

The trio turns around a corner, and finds themselves facing Azimio and two of his teammates.

"Welcome back, Gleeks!" he shouts, and Kurt had been lucky enough to forget how horrible a slushie can be. Like being bitch slapped by an iceberg, but redder, stickier and more damaging.

"Couldn't they have let us go through one class first, at least?" Tina mutters.

"This sweater was brand new," Rachel sulks.

The sweater has a kitten playing with yarn on it. Nobody should mourn that loss. It doesn't mean Rachel deserved it, though.

Kurt is paralyzed for a long minute, until old instincts kick in, and the three of them automatically walk to the closest girl's room. Tina texts someone, and soon after Mercedes joins to help them clean up. She looks sadly at him. Quinn, Santana and Brittany follow shortly after with towels from the Cheerio's gym.

"I haven't even placed the spare clothes and emergency toiletries-kit in my locker yet," Tina sighs, as Mercedes helps her towel her long hair.

"Why bother?" Kurt snorts, bending over the faucet to remove as much syrup-ice-mixture as possible from his hair. He swats Santana's hands off of him. He's done this plenty of times on his own.

"Let me freaking help you," she mutters, forcing the wet shirt off him.

"Don't they know who we are? We won Nationals," Rachel says agitatedly. "They hailed us as winners when we returned." Quinn rests a hand on her back, meeting her sad eyes in the mirror.

"That was then," Kurt explains patiently. He's spent a lot of time trying to psychoanalyze the inner social workings of high school. "This is a new year, with new beginnings, and new rivalries and hierarchical positions. You're back to square par zero, the bottom of the lowest."

"I heard Azimio say you're a bottom," Brittany smiles at him. "He must have watched you when you were a Cheerio," she beams.

"I'm sure…"

"Sweetie," Santana says, but interrupts herself, shaking her head.

Kurt finishes up, doing as much as he can with the little he has. It didn't even occur to him to bring anything today, it hasn't been part of his routine for months. The bathroom is crowded with all of them, so he waves a _see you later_, and leaves the girls in a moist t-shirt. The shirt he wore is left in the trash. He's just done with that.

He's only a couple of feet away from the door, when a rough hand grabs him from behind, and slams him against the row of lockers. A brand new lock is digging into his shoulder blade. A big, bulky body looms in on him, crowding his space, and hisses menacingly.

"I don't know how you infected my former man Karofsky, but thanks to you he's not here anymore. I lost a friend and the football team lost an important player. You're paying for it, Hummel," Azimio barks.

Kurt stares at him, forcing his body to not flinch or cave, and a mantra runs through his mind. _Don't answer him, don't answer him, don't answer him_.

Azimio's fist hits the locker frighteningly close to Kurt's ear, and he can't help but startle.

"It's not fair that you get to wave your faggy ass around, infecting normal men. Stay away from us, or else!"

"Or else what, Azimio?" a firm female voice dares him next to his ear.

Kurt grins shakily at Coach Sylvester.

"Porcelain," she greets him courtly. "Everything else okay?" she asks, having Azimio rooted to the floor with nothing but her stern eyes.

Kurt swallows heavily, but nods.

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some garbage disposal duty to take care of. All kinds of filth in our hallways, and it's still only the first day in the semester. This school was so much better during summer, without all you annoying brats loitering it," she scolds, yanking Azimio by the ear in the direction of her office.

Kurt watches the two backs retreating, and leans heavily against the lockers. He picks up a water bottle from his satchel, moisturising his dry throat. In his pocket, his phone vibrates with an incoming text.

_They say distance makes the heart grow fonder. I don't know how fonder this heart needs to be. Can't wait to see you later. Your B_

Kurt glances at the time. Still ten minutes until he promised to be in the auditorium. There's time for a quick phone call. A smile blooms on his face as he waits for Blaine to answer.

* * *

As soon as Kurt arrived at the familiar, but yet alien, auditorium, Finn had wrapped an arm around him and walked him awkwardly to a seat on first row. Awkwardly, because of the height difference, as his arms had been more wrapped around Kurt's ears than his shoulders. Finn had grinned at him, told him to stay put, and jumped onto the stage with the rest of New Directions.

"This is a special day," Finn explains, "so we wanted to sing a song to you. You need to know what an important and good friend you are to us."

Rachel clears her voice exaggeratedly, looking pointedly at him.

"Oh, yeah, and we're really happy that you found Blaine," Finn grins, grimacing to Rachel as if to say _look, I didn't forget, chill, okay?_

Brad is on the stage with them. Finn gets behind the drums they've brought in, and Puck and Sam shows up with guitars.

"_Take me to your best friend's house, Go around this roundabout, Oh yeah. Take me to your best friend's house, I loved you then and I love you now, Oh yeah._"

They sing and dance. It's clearly not rehearsed completely, with how they improvise and mess around on the stage, but it sounds great. It's amazing, really, what they are able to put together in such a short amount of time since Kurt made his decision.

"_Don't leave me tongue tied. Don't wave no goodbye. Don't leave me tongue tied. Don't..._"

Kurt is so touched he almost chokes up, and he surreptitiously dries a few tears.

"Guys…" He climbs the few steps to the stage, and is immediately surrounded in a group hug, Finn closest.

"Love you, man. Always."

Later, Kurt finds himself at Dalton. Blaine has already gotten his room and started moving in. Classes don't start until a few more days, though, but as student president Blaine wants to be early. There are tasks he needs to work out with the Dalton administration, and he likes to be there to greet the new students as they trickle in. Like he did his Junior year, he got a single room again, privilege of being student president. Kurt had prepared a bag of clothes in his car, and as soon as he came to Dalton, he took a shower to get rid of the remaining slushie stains.

"How was McKinley today?" Blaine asks loudly, as Kurt dresses in his bathroom, door open wide enough to allow sound to pass through.

"Sad. I don't like missing people," he says, poking his head out of the door, and pouts.

"I know. I wish I could do something so you wouldn't have to."

"Unless you know how to merge two high schools in different cities, there's nothing you can do," Kurt sighs, and steps out of the bathroom. Blaine instantly gets up from his newly made bed, and wraps his arms around his boyfriend's waist.

"How do you feel after the whole Azimio-episode?"

"I don't want to think about it," Kurt grunts. "I want to forget it ever was a regular occurrence, something to expect on a normal school day."

Blaine smiles sadly, and kisses him. There really isn't much more to say. Being gay means it is something they'll have to face now and then, and it probably won't stop once they're out of high school either. Sometimes, ignoring ignorance is the best strategy for their own best.

He takes Kurt's hands in his, steps back, and gives him a thorough onceover, smiling crookedly. His gaze makes it tingle all over Kurt's skin.

"How is it fair that you've grown over summer, while my uniform still fits?" Blaine muses, but there's warmth in his eyes as he rubs his thumbs over Kurt's naked wrists.

Kurt grins and looks down on the Dalton blazer and grey pants.

"I'll see if I can take down the sleeves and legs somewhat, but I doubt it'll be enough, and I fear I'll have to buy new uniforms, and not only shirts."

"At least the tie still fits," Blaine says easily, and Kurt snorts.

Blaine adjusts the collar and lapels on Kurt's blazer, a familiar and at the same time thrilling gesture, reminding them of that serendipitous day last October.

"I'm so glad you're here," he says softly. "Are you… You do want to be here?"

"No regrets," Kurt smiles.

"Our Senior year is going to be magical," Blaine whispers against his lips.

"Perfect," Kurt murmurs, and kisses him back.

* * *

**Lyrics from:  
**Grouplove – _Tongue Tied_


	3. Back To School

**AN: Hello, my lovelies! I'm so sorry about the delay, but RL can be a bitch sometimes. And sometimes it can be really pleasant. Lately, it's been both to me, and the result is no time and concentration to do what I love the most - writing. So thank you so much for your patience. We've barely started on the journey through the boys' Senior year, and I have so much to share with you.**

**I'm humbled and proud to tell you that Victorious is now available at klaineficspdfs over on tumblr - thank you so much to those who recommended it be published there, thank you for acknowledging my writing as something more than a fumbling mess from a silly fangirl with English as her third language.**

**I know that season 5 will fairly soon be aired in the States, and I beg you to respect that I want to remain spoiler free. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, which I honestly expected to do by now, as my birthday came and went since last update...**

* * *

Blaine smiles fondly at Kurt, who's working idly and relentlessly around in his new room to unpack, move in and get settled. He had of course offered his boyfriend to help him, both because he's a gentleman and because he's already been at Dalton for almost a week. Kurt chewing on his bottom lip had considered what Blaine could contribute with. Blaine still wasn't sufficiently familiar with his organisational schemes for wardrobe, books and music. But he was allowed to set up Kurt's laptop, with speakers and web camera. He was allowed to make the bed. And he was allowed to rummage Kurt's tool box for a hammer and some nails to mount Kurt's mirror and pictures to the walls – after Kurt carefully considering the proper positions, of course.

Burt, Finn and Carole had tagged along with Kurt to Dalton, as they needed two cars to get all of his belongings back to school. They'd helped him carry his boxes, bags and suitcases, or at least Finn and Blaine had done so, while Kurt herded his dad like an agile Border Collie, to make sure he didn't upset his heart. No matter how much of a clear the doctors gave, Kurt would forever worry about his dad's health when exercising physical strains.

Fortunately, Blaine had discovered Carole loading some of the shelves in the commons room with cookies and snacks, and had been able to rescue it before the other boys saw. If you wanted to make sure your treats last a while, you did not put them up on display among teenagers, and it was an unwritten rule that whatever was found in the commons was for anyone's consuming. Now and then, some of the boarders would get care packages from home, and if they had idle mothers/house keepers, some of them would be generous enough to share their eatable treasures with the lot of them. Even Kurt's dried fruit and other healthy snack would disappear sooner rather than later. But now it was stored safely in a sealed container under Kurt's bed.

After they had unloaded the two cars, Burt took all five of them out to lunch in Westerville. They spent a pleasant hour and a half in an Italian restaurant, talking and reassuring each other to take care and avoid overdoing neither school work nor election process. Kurt had promised to come home at least every other weekend, to see his family and friends.

Carole must really know her stepson by now, because she suggested for her husband and son they all head back home after lunch. They wouldn't have much to contribute with when it came to unpacking, and would only walk on each other's feet and nerves if they tried to help Kurt. So after driving Blaine and Kurt back to Dalton, they went back to Lima. Blaine was the exception from the rule, though, and could hopefully do something useful to aid his boyfriend, and not simply make more mess.

"I'm so glad you were able to land me this room," Kurt sighs pleased, shooting a look over at his roommate's half of his new room.

When Kurt transferred mid semester last year, he was given one of only two single rooms at Dalton. Blaine had the other, and they shared a bathroom connecting the two rooms. Blaine still has his single room; a perk of being student president, lead singer of the Warblers, successful fencer and in other words acclaimed Dalton poster boy. While now, Kurt is a regular student, and thus has to live with one of the other boys, and use the shared bathrooms in the hallway. At least, whenever he can't take advantage of his boyfriend's own bath.

Assigning roommates had been one of the preparing tasks Blaine did in cooperation with the school administration before the students came back after summer break. Several factors are taken into consideration when pairing boys in two and two for an entire year, and Blaine provided the student insight to hopefully steer away from making catastrophic pairings. So he'd used his position to make sure Kurt got a roommate he would get along well with. The Dalton administration wouldn't let boys dating share a room, and Nick's old roommate had moved out of state and transferred in the middle of last semester, so it worked out perfectly to let Kurt move in with Nick. They were already good friends, and Blaine is confident they'll get along great as roommates too, finding mutual patience and understanding for the other's quirks.

Nick is currently helping Jeff unpack, and Blaine realizes that works as an advantage too. If Nick and Jeff want some alone-time, Kurt can come to him. If they want some alone-time, they have both Blaine's single room, and Kurt's understanding roommate. Jeff lives with Trent, and that boy is too good for his own good, and would probably camp out on one of the benches in the park behind campus to make sure the boys could accommodate for their date nights. Kurt had teased Blaine once or twice that he thought Trent had a straight boy-crush on Blaine, something he'd only laughed at. Trent was simply a kind hearted soul.

"I'm glad I could make you glad," Blaine smiles sweetly, adjusting the mirror, before stepping back to admire his handy work.

"You always make me glad," Kurt smiles coyly, stopping next to him with his arms full of scarves. He hoists the bundle of fabrics further in his grip, tilts the mirror slightly to the left, nods pleased, and kisses Blaine briefly on the lips. "Thank you for helping me," he murmurs, and Blaine can't help but grin. He's crazy about the boy, and he constantly seems to be struggling with expressing exactly how much Kurt means to him.

"What can I do for you?" Blaine asks in lieu of putting words to his feelings for Kurt.

"I think we're pretty much done for now," Kurt says, his back to Blaine as he folds his scarves into one of his drawers. "I'll have to discuss with Nick how we'll solve the rest."

Blaine looks around their room. It's slightly bigger than his own, which means Kurt and Nick have less space each than he has. There is sufficient room for their single beds, with their desks placed between them. A dresser is placed by the foot of each bed, and a bigger wardrobe next to the door. There's not surplus space for any couches or comfortable chairs, so their beds will have to work as different kind of furniture. Nick has a foldable coffee table he brings out from under his bed whenever they need a proper surface for board games or snacks, and he has a decent sized flat screen mounted to the wall over his bed. He'd been ecstatic when he saw and remembered Kurt's big mirror. Two gay guys shouldn't live together without such a piece of important interior, he winked as he skipped out to find Jeff.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" Kurt asks as he pushes the drawer back in, seemingly satisfied with how his scarves are organized.

"Sure," Blaine says, because he is a gentleman, and he would never admit that he couldn't care less about watching anything else but Kurt right now, or that he's longing to lay down next to him and kiss him breathless.

"Is this okay?" Kurt holds up the cover of _Mulan_.

"We've seen it several times," Blaine shrugs confused. Why shouldn't it be okay?

"I know," Kurt grins smugly. He plops the DVD into the proper slot on Nick's TV, picks up the remote control, and stops momentarily in front of Blaine, and grips his tie firmly. "I know exactly what goes on in it," he smirks, and yanks Blaine with him. They land in a heap on the bed, and Kurt hits play on the remote over Blaine's shoulder, before throwing it away, weaving his fingers into Blaine's hair and tugging him closer.

"There are a lot of movies we've seen together a lot of times," Kurt murmurs against his lips.

It's true. It's close to a year since Kurt's infamous spying, and they have seen numerous movies since then. A wide smile slowly grows across Blaine's face, almost as wide as the Great Wall on the screen behind them, and he leans in to kiss his boyfriend.

* * *

"Have we told you how ecstatic we are that you are still here?"

Kurt laughs, and stretches his body to ease somewhat out of the clomped hug he finds himself in – caught somehow between Nick and Jeff in his bed.

"You may have mentioned it once or twice," he smirks. Their violent hugs have been at least daily occurrences, if not hourly, ever since they all came back to Dalton. And as soon as Kurt had informed them over text about his decision, they had peppered him with texts and voice messages in their euphoria, even sending him picture messages of Dalton uniforms, cupcakes they hoped Kurt would make them some time soon, new DVDs they wanted to watch during movie nights, and later their packed suitcases and boxes.

"There's one thing we don't understand, though," Nick begins, getting comfortable with his head nuzzled on Kurt's chest. Jeff is kind of spooning the both of them.

"What's going on?" Blaine laughs from the door opening.

"Cuddling," Jeff beams.

"Picking Kurt's brain," Nick shrugs.

"Scoot," Blaine orders, and the boys split, leaving a fourth of the bed for Blaine to crawl up in Kurt's lap. There really isn't much room in a single bed. Fortunately, neither worries about catching boy cooties.

"What has my brain done now?" Kurt enquires, as he wraps his arms around Blaine, the boy nestled between his folded legs. He's a bit in love with how much more affectionate Blaine has become in front of their friends, how he isn't holding so much back and censoring himself anymore.

"We love that you chose Dalton. We're just curious why, that's all."

"Oh," Kurt says surprised.

Nobody's really asked him for his reasons, just supported his decision, politely avoiding questioning it, and probably figuring out some valid reasons on their own. He explained it to both his father and boyfriend, because it felt right, but they never demanded it of him.

"Well, there are several reasons to pick either, of course. But I realized nothing significant had changed from when I initially transferred. Sure, a major bully is gone from my old school. But I had a run-in with Azimio at the grocery store this summer, and it reminded me that he would still make my life at McKinley hell. He went for Blaine and me when we came to McKinley on _Day of Silence_, and he's worse than Dave could ever be."

Blaine gives his hand a reassuring squeeze. They can't say it out loud in front of Nick and Jeff, but they both know that they sort of understand Dave, and it makes Azimio more dangerous.

"Besides," Kurt smirks, "it's not that it will be entirely unpleasant to spend a year with my boyfriend either."

Blaine turns his head to swat at his shoulder, but Kurt catches his hand and kisses his knuckles, making Nick and Jeff aww and ooh.

* * *

Living with Nick is surprisingly easy. Between classes, homework and their respective boyfriends, they don't see all that much to each other. Nick is messier than Kurt, but then again most boys are. After living with Finn, Kurt has learned to ignore it and not let it get to him. As long as his own things aren't dragged into the mess, he's determined to overlook Nick's lack of structure to his school books, and how he doesn't do laundry until he's down to the last pair of socks. In all fairness, he doesn't have all that many socks. Nick snores now and then; Kurt hasn't managed to identify a pattern to it yet, but he has found a nice pair of sound cancelling ear plugs.

He isn't blind for his own mistakes; he knows he isn't perfect. He expects a certain degree of tension and annoyance will flame eventually, when they are done being polite towards each other and ecstatic about their cohabitation. They had a brief discussion to figure out logistics for date nights and privacy.

"Please tell me you don't believe in hanging a sock on the door handle?" Kurt had pleaded; he just couldn't imagine living with a system as cheesy as that.

"Wouldn't a tie be more appropriate?" Nick had grinned.

"No!" Kurt had groaned, shaking his head.

In the end, they didn't develop any water proof system, rather decided that communication and planning would hopefully suffice. Kurt imagined spending a lot of the private time with Blaine in the boy's room, rendering walk in on-situations practically non-existent.

Right now, he's in bed with Blaine, and it really isn't anything compromising to walk in on. At least, it wasn't.

They are kissing lazily, which they have grown very, very comfortable doing. Kurt is sprawled on his back with one foot planted in the mattress and with Blaine on his side next to him. He's tracing his fingers along the outseam of Kurt's pants along his calf, and that tiny movement takes Kurt's breath away more overwhelmingly and instantly than what Blaine's lips and tongue manage. He still isn't used to the idea that Blaine actually wants to touch him, that he's in a position to experience something as sexy as that. The touch of a fingertip, so much more than he ever imagined it could be.

Kurt snakes a hand to the small of Blaine's back, resting just above his belt. His fingers curl in the fabric of Blaine's shirt, grasping closer and tighter as Blaine deepens the kiss and runs a finger up past Kurt's knee and down towards his thigh. His firm grip tucks the shirt out of Blaine's pants, and without thinking, he slides his hand up between fabric and skin. Blaine inhales sharply through his nose, and kisses him more eagerly.

"Kurt!" he exhales reverently, his hand stilling.

"Is this okay?"

"So, so okay. Are you comfortable?"

"Mmm, yes." He untucks Blaine's shirt further, placing both hands on his lower back, and pulls him closer. Blaine lands on top of him with a giggle and a loud oomph. Kurt kisses him, and blindly Blaine unbuttons the first buttons on Kurt's shirt. He kisses down his throat, down, mouthing at his collar bone.

"Blaine…"

"You're amazing," he gushes against Kurt's skin.

"That would be my line," Kurt snorts, and gasps when Blaine sucks at that tender notch of a dip between his collar bones.

Kurt's head is spinning, he can hear and feel his heart beating in his ears, and his stomach tightens. His lungs are protesting, and it feels as if he can't breathe properly. His mind is running wild with thoughts about what could happen, what this could lead to. Sooner or later, Blaine will want sex, of some kind, and Kurt isn't there yet. He likes making out, but the in the grand picture fairly innocent touches they do now are almost more than he can take. He'd like to let himself drown in it, but he isn't able to let go of the anxious worry about what those kinds of touches can lead to. He moves his hands away from Blaine's skin, trying to reduce the amount of sensations and impressions to something more bearable.

Blaine moves up again to his mouth, catching his lips with his own. He deepens the kiss, and Kurt lets him in, his arms falling down from Blaine's back. Blaine kisses him one last time, a sweet peck on his lips, before leaning back. He looks tenderly down at him, and Kurt can't not smile.

"Not good?" he asks carefully, running the tip of his finger over Kurt's collar bone.

"Too good," Kurt sighs.

Blaine smiles sweetly, and climbs off of him, laying down close close close next to him. Kurt turns over to his side, their feet automatically find each other and intermingle, and the boys rest an arm across the other's waist.

"I'm sorry," Kurt sighs.

"For what?" Blaine looks honestly confused.

"For putting on the brakes?" Kurt looks away, frustrated that he can't vocalize how he feels, frustrated that he can't just let go and simply feel when he's with Blaine. Thinking complicates everything.

"Oh Kurt," Blaine whispers, cupping his cheek and forcing him to look at him. "It's okay to stop. It's okay to have boundaries and limits. I want you to tell me. I'd hate it if I found out I had overstepped and done something you didn't approve or desire."

"It's embarrassing," Kurt groans.

"It isn't embarrassing to know your body and mind, and know what you're okay with. It's only embarrassing if we're not able to communicate about it."

"Why are you so calm about this? Shouldn't your teenager hormones run rampant in your body, demanding you have your wicked way with me?"

Blaine snorts and shakes his head in disbelief.

"My teenager hormones are very much present, and sure, they'd be ecstatic if we just tore our clothes off and went for it. But I…" Blaine closes his eyes for a moment, as if he's visualizing the next sentences before uttering them. "I care a lot for you, Kurt. I like you so, so much, and I respect you as a friend and as a lover. I would never want to push you."

"So what, you'll just wait patiently until I one day in the distant future wake up ready?"

"It's not like I don't enjoy what we do, you know," Blaine teases softly, and kisses him briefly. "And for more? Well, that's why they invented masturbation," he shrugs.

"Oh my God!" Kurt shrieks scandalized, hiding his face in his hands and turns away from him.

"Don't you…"

"That's private," Kurt quickly interrupts, hands flying off of his face to glare at his boyfriend.

"I think about my gorgeous boyfriend when I do," Blaine whispers hotly in his ear.

Kurt shivers and swallows heavily. He turns towards Blaine again.

"You do?"

Blaine nods calmly, running a hand up and down Kurt's arm, and that's the only contact point between them. Butterflies are going crazy in Kurt's stomach, and he can feel his heart thumping in his ears. It's weird. Kurt has never considered whether someone would be attracted to his body. He had kind of hoped that a colourful personality and unrivalled fashion sense would be enough when he daydreamed about catching a boyfriend. Bodies, nakedness, sex and that kind of intimacy were too vague concepts to even be present in the picture. But being with Blaine has changed that, and he's forced to acknowledge it.

"You're weird," Kurt laughs self-deprecatingly.

"That may be, but not because I'm attracted to you. Kurt, if you could see yourself through my eyes…"

"Then what?" Kurt enquires, smiling crookedly.

So Blaine jumps into a thorough description of what he likes about Kurt and how gorgeous he is. Kurt may be flushing bright red, but he still highly approves.

* * *

"Hey boo…"

"Why the sad face, 'Cedes?" Kurt tilts his head and pouts sympathetically into his web camera.

"I miss Sam," she says sadly, and sniffs.

"Oh sweetie…"

Sam came to McKinley the first day after summer break, when all of New Directions had invited Kurt to come by to sing him off to Dalton, something they never got around to do before his rushed transfer last year. Little did they know that they would also need to say goodbye to Sam only a few days later. His father had finally found a job, and as a whirlwind, the Evans' packed their belongings and went to Kentucky, hoping to get their footing as a family back. Sam and Mercedes have been dating for a long time, so they had decided to try the long distance-thing. But it's obviously hard for them.

"He's working at the Dairy Queen again, and it's the third night in a row. No Skype dates or phone calls, just a few hurried texts."

"I'm sorry," Kurt says sincerely. He can't imagine how challenging it would have been to maintain his relationship with Blaine if he went to McKinley, even with only two hours apart.

"I guess it's a good thing I still have my other boyfriend," she sighs, puts on a smile, and winks at him. Kurt waves with his fingers at her, and she mirrors it, grinning.

"Pity parties abolished. We're too fabulous for them," Kurt advices. "Tell me what's new at McKinley instead."

"Well, we were down to ten members for a while."

"Ten?" Kurt interrupts. He only knew about Sam's absence.

"Yeah, Lauren isn't sure if her street cred can take spending any more time with us."

"Oh God… So, you're recruiting among the members of the jazz band, or maybe from the crack house Rachel knew about?" he giggles.

"No," Mercedes smiles, that teasing smile she gets whenever she has really good news to share, or excellent gossip. "We got a renegade from Vocal Adrenaline. Remember I told you about Unique, and how we helped her with her nerves before their performance at Nationals?" Kurt nods and she continues to talk. "Turns out, she didn't feel comfortable among the pretentious, soulless automatons at Carmel High, and talked her parents into transferring to less hostile environments."

"Less hostile environments?" Kurt splutters.

"Yeah, both she and Wade have had their unfair share of slushies from Azimio. But at least they have us, supportive friends."

"That's good," Kurt murmurs, thinking about how fierce and protective his friends can be. "And who's the twelfth member?"

"Oh, you won't believe it. Brittany showed up with the cutest boy. We didn't exactly understand how she found him the first week, but eventually we learned that he lives in her house this year. Her family takes part in an exchange student-project, offering their spare room up now that Brittany's brother is off to college. So we got adorable Rory from Ireland."

"Ooh," Kurt sighs. "The accent?"

"The accent!" Mercedes agrees, fanning herself.

"Guys? I'm still here," Blaine reminds them, sprawled on Kurt's bed with his homework.

"Hello Blaine," Mercedes singsongs, and cracks up in laughter with Kurt.

"You are the worst," Blaine mutters, but when Kurt turns around, his boyfriend is smiling fondly at them.

"Mhm, you deserve someone much better, Blaine," Mercedes agrees.

"And to think I call you my friend," Kurt scolds playfully.

"I think I have to borrow my boyfriend now," Blaine admits, getting up from the bed and walks over to them. He yanks at Kurt's office chair, spinning him around from the desk. "We have something important to work on," he says seriously.

"Oh, sorry to keep you away from your books, Kurt," Mercedes says apologetically.

They bid their farewells while Blaine waits patiently by Kurt's side. Then Kurt gets up, and Blaine immediately wraps him up in his arms, and kisses him.

"Missed you," he murmurs, kissing him again, Kurt eagerly reciprocating.

"Guys? You should disconnect the call before being all over each other," Mercedes' voice interrupts them, sounding amused.

Kurt groans, and blindly searches with his hand to shut the laptop down.

"I'm sorry for being so rude, but there's only twenty minutes to curfew, and I need my Kurt-fix before going to my own room," Blaine excuses, sounding sincerely sorry about it.

"Less talking; more kissing," Kurt instructs, walking him back to his bed. They didn't have to worry that much about curfew when they lived with only a bathroom separating them, but now they have to respect the rules and the prefects' unannounced, random room checks. And as student president, Blaine is particularly concerned about obeying the rules.

"Bossy," Blaine mutters against his lips.

"You knew what you were getting yourself into with me," Kurt smirks, nibbling at Blaine's bottom lip.

"Mmm, and I so approve."


	4. Dalton Idols

**I am ridiculously giddy with all the enthusiastic feedback I've gotten for this sequel so far! You guys are WONDERFUL!**

**This chapter is written with love to Stephen Gately, Cory Monteith, and all the other wonderful people that have left us too early.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or anything you may recognize.**

* * *

With the new school year successfully launched, every boarder settled down in their dormitories, and classes running flowingly after that first week of introductions and information overload, it's time to get the party started. Or, the Warblers back on their feet, if you will. All the different student groups, extracurricular activities and teams were holding try-outs, opening meetings, elections and auditions by now.

The student president election had been a calm affair, without the over-the-top popularity contest-campaigns Tina had told Kurt about from McKinley (which would explain how Brittany of all could be their new student president). The candidates at Dalton had given their speeches, focusing on what cause would be on top of their agenda if they got elected, and Blaine had talked passionately and inspired. He'd talked warmly about the no bullying-policy, and how it could still be improved, and how he wanted other high schools in Ohio to be aware of and informed about it. He hoped other school administration would be inspired by it, and if not, he hoped school councillors would know about it if they had male students who needed a refuge. He also wanted to initiate cooperation with their sister school, to encourage they implement the same policy, thus creating a sanctuary for girls who needed their own Dalton.

Blaine had been on fire, and when he completed his speech by mentioning the anniversary their beloved school would be celebrating this year, and how his Dalton cultivated and took advantage of the best from its past to shape the gentlemen of the future, he received wilder applause than Kurt had ever seen in a school assembly at Dalton. It still was nothing compared to the mayhem after he performed _Toxic_ with New Directions at McKinley, though.

Two candidates run against Blaine. An enthusiastic, optimistic, ambitious and naïve Freshman, with no proper knowledge about Dalton to justify being elected. Emilio had talked eagerly about Dalton taking the lead into the future, and using the next two years to modernize itself. The first thing which should go was the uniform. He's received his share of polite applause, but not even Kurt could imagine a Dalton without the blazer. And he wasn't able to share Emilio's view on Dalton as old-fashioned and outdated. Sure, it wasn't hypermodern, but who said the latest was always the best? Kurt may be fashion-forward and paying excruciating attention to the latest fashion trends. But he loves vintage, and he's become a master at taking old outfits and readjusting them, thus being able to reuse them as updated and unique outfits. He looks at Dalton the same way. And incidentally, his darling boyfriend also appreciated what had worked, and saw no reason to throw away something just because it had reached a certain age. Good things don't have an expiration date.

The third candidate was a Junior who Kurt really didn't know, but from what he understands, the boy was popular among the sports interested, and had made huge success last year as the Dalton lacrosse team's newest goalie, contributing a great deal to their many wins. Blaine had gushed about him when Eric's candidature had been revealed, so much that Kurt had grumbled something about finding his old kicker-uniform and help Blaine focus if he didn't stop talking about other boys. The argument and logic could have backfired, but fortunately Blaine simply pulled Kurt into a nearby bathroom and kissed him silent.

As a politician, they didn't know anything about Eric, though. He gave a powerful speech about how Dalton should take advantage of all the quality students among them, and be better at showcasing their success stories outside the school to attract more money, attention and students. If more people were aware of the glorious school in Westerville, it would lead to more students and the school would grow, and become even more successful. Eric suggested using both the lacrosse team and the Warblers to show off what kind of quality Dalton generates.

It was a speech that made great impact, and Kurt was sure a lot of the students would go for the blending idea of making Dalton bigger, stronger, better. Kurt and Blaine actually discussed it for a long time, because they needed to come up with counter arguments for the last debate before the election. There, Blaine described Dalton as a perfectly sized school, because it's big enough to give options and possibilities, to enable interesting and useful dynamics between the students. But it's also small enough to make sure each student is actually seen, instead of drowning in the masses. It's a school with room for the individual, despite of the homogenous appearance.

Blaine won the election, quite easily, which is all kinds of neat. He really wanted to make a change, and believed in his vision. And he got to keep his single room. They made sure to take advantage of that and celebrate his victory, spending the night up until curfew making out, hands roaming on skin under clothes above the waist, and Kurt teasingly calling Blaine "Mr. President" and "Commander in Chief". Blaine was mortified by how much he liked the names, unable to prevent himself from blushing and moaning against Kurt's lips.

* * *

"I'm proud of you, Blaine," Devon says, his voice warm even through the phone speaker.

"Th-thank you," Blaine chokes. He'd called his dad to tell him he was elected student president. When he did so a year ago, the first time he was elected, he'd gotten a neutral "well done, son" in response, and not much else. It proves how much closer they've grown during these 12 months.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Son, it'll look good on your college applications. But most of all I see your passion and willingness to make a change, and I'm glad you have found and gotten a possibility to do exactly that."

"I'm honoured the students have this much faith in me," Blaine murmurs, arm wrapped around his middle section as he paces in circles in his room, phone tucked to his ear.

"You must have proven yourself throughout the last year, then, to be re-elected."

"Yeah… I'm Obama!" Blaine giggles, and he can hear his dad chuckle on the phone too. "Speaking of which, how is everything going with Mr. Hummel and his campaign?"

Devon launches a thorough update on status quo and the plans for the next less than three months until the election.

"So how are the Warblers doing?" Devon asks, and it's a welcomed change that he asks about the things that are dear to Blaine without necessarily having great importance in the bigger picture of life.

"Auditions are next week, so Kurt and I are constantly looking for those perfect pieces to perform."

"You have to audition? Aren't you their lead singer?"

"Everyone is treated equally," Blaine explains calmly. "They only have 14 spots, and it wouldn't be fair to talented singers among the Freshmen to put them last in line, simply because they are younger. Although, I did manage to convince the Council make an exception for Kurt, when he transferred mid-semester. He got to audition, and was our 15th and bonus member."

"So are the two of you going to audition together?"

"You mean with a duet?" Blaine asks confused. He hasn't even thought about it as a possibility. His dad hums an affirmative. "I'd have to ask the Council if that's doable, and check with Kurt if he wants to."

"You think your boyfriend doesn't want to sing with you?"

Butterflies stretch lazy wings in Blaine's stomach. He still isn't used to being told he has a boyfriend, and coming from his dad it means so much more. He didn't even hesitate when he said the b-word.

"Kurt is an amazing singer, and he deserves to shine and show his potential as a lead singer for the Warblers," Blaine shrugs. "I don't want to take that away from him by suggesting a duet. He might feel obligated to say yes to me."

He can hear his father inhale audibly.

"Blaine, I'm not going to pretend I know Kurt as well as you do. But to me he doesn't seem… What do you kids say these days? Whipped?"

Blaine snorts, and then giggles, because that is such a Kurt-thing to do.

"No, most definitely not whipped. He's opinionated, strong minded, stubborn, sometimes unreasonably so…"

"Then I think you can safely ask him, if a duet is something you'd want to do. You've sounded great together when I've heard you this summer, at least, and that's only been out in the garden or in your room."

"I'll think about it," Blaine promises, song candidates already swirling around in his mind.

"Good, good. Could you promise me one more thing?"

"What's that, Dad?"

"Could you call Cooper about your audition and tell him you need guidance? He'd be so disappointed if he found out about it afterwards."

"I will. But if my audition ends up being a duet with Kurt, I refuse to follow his advice about actively avoiding looking at my partner on stage."

"Did I tell you to follow his pointers? Heaven knows how he lands the parts he does, because even I can tell that the private acting classes he gave you this summer were nonsense."

* * *

David is pretty sure that he's Steven Tyler in this operation. He's cool, he's not afraid to go against the other two's comments, he always appreciates the effort, and he knows the coolest adjectives to describe the performances given to them. He even sometimes makes them up on the go.

He's equally sure that Wes is Simon Cowell. Nobody is good enough, in the boy's opinion, everybody has faults, and he always stresses the improvement potential before focusing on what works. His manic disposition to his gavel is as ingrained and never-wavering as Cowell's pissy mood. Wes likes to see himself as the brain in this operation, and David and Thad merely his minions. Which isn't true at all, they are equals in this Council, they just operate differently, and Wes in position is a natural… pushover. David would hate him if he didn't love him.

Now Thad, he isn't so sure how or who to pin him down as. He considered JLo for a while, but Thad is much smarter than she is, and is able to separate a soul-filled performance from a technically good audition (they want both, but an acappela group needs the latter, they can't afford to have off-pitch voices in their limited midst). David had also considered Nicki Minaj for a while, but no, she's too cutting edge and ahead of herself for Thad. He has more vintage style and class. And David always, always understands what Thad says, opposed to Nicki Minaj. So Thad is Randy Jackson.

Of course, they don't give any comments to the Warblers-auditioners, except for "whenever you're ready" and "thank you for coming". But they are making notes they compare later for the final cut. A new Council will be elected as soon as this year's Warblers have been selected, but until then last year's Council is responsible for the auditions, and as a thank you for being a Council member last year, they are guaranteed a place among the limited ranks of the Warblers this year. So they have 11 spots to fill.

David thinks maybe they should be somewhat more lenient on the numbers of singers they accept. If they have quality in surplus, why not take advantage of it? But he understands Wes' argument that they are used to arranging their numbers for 14 voices. David thinks 15 or 16 members would be easier when it comes to splitting up for choreography, though. 14 can really only be split in seven, and 13 is a fucking useless number if they want to do something with those singing back up to their lead singer. Considering how their preferred lead singer is superstitious and doesn't enjoy being backed up by 13 young men, it's no wonder he bloomed as a performer when Kurt was added to the ranks. 15 and 16 gives them possibilities.

But Thad and Wes firmly believe their forte is their harmonies, and they really don't have any knowledge about advanced choreography. So they stick to 14. David doesn't know why, except that the show choir competition regulations states you need 12 members, and with 14 you always have two to spare in case of emergency. Although, it has to be a matter of life or death for a Warbler to abandon the brotherhood when a competition is at stake.

The Warblers have been stuck with number 14 for many a decade. Except until Blaine talked them into making an exception for Kurt. David may not be too thrilled over the power their lead singer (who has yet to audition, and he'll audition like everybody else, but David isn't kidding anyone – Blaine is a shoe-in) has over them, but Kurt's voice turned out to be a wet dream of Wes'.

He skims through the thick folder. They have at least 30 boys who want to audition, and it'll be late before they're done. They've informed the boys about their expected time slots, inviting six boys every hour. Even though they began right after last class was over, it'll take hours. But they need to do a thorough job to secure the quality of the Warblers. It's a huge responsibility. Neither in the Council has done this before. A year ago, the Council consisted of three Seniors, who came back after the summer break to organize the auditions, but then left for college again. Wes, David and Thad were good friends, had been members of the Warblers for two years, and knew they cooperated well from group projects in their classes, so they agreed to step in as the Council. But this year, it is a spoken goal to have wider age-representation in the Council, to secure continuity and better working conditions for later years.

* * *

When Blaine sought out Kurt to suggest auditioning with a duet, Kurt had immediately jumped aboard. Maybe he was overly cocky, but the Council already knew their voices, ranges, techniques and skills. He wasn't concerned about showcasing that for their audition. No, by singing a duet he hoped to give the Council ideas. 90 per cent of their performances were with a lead and his backups. It wouldn't hurt the Council to think about more duets as a valid option for them. Duets gave them more to play with both in harmonies, choreography, song selections and showmanship, and made for some interesting performances. So Kurt was very pro duets.

The problem was to find the song they both wanted to audition with, and made them both look and sound good. P!nk's _Perfect_ is their song, and they often sing it together, or to each other, snippets of it or the whole song. But because it's theirs, it's something private, and they don't want to use it for such an occasion. Kurt was all kinds of madly in love with how they didn't even have to voice that concern, they'd just silently rejected it as a candidate, smiling secretively at each other.

There are plenty of duets in the world to pick from. Hell, more than half of the Broadway numbers they both enjoy are duets. But Broadway isn't the typical brand the Warblers perform, so they'd tabled that – for now. Kurt still believes the Warblers could kill _Razzle Dazzle_ or _Send In The Clowns_, though. Inspired by Mr. Schue's traditional strategy, Kurt had suggested a mash up. But it really didn't sound all that good with only two voices, and Kurt thought it would be difficult to make Katy Perry and Lady Gaga work like that. Which had prompted Blaine to look for videos online, and they'd spent almost an hour giggling and awing appropriately at the various videos he found. A mash up of _Rolling in the Deep_ and _Toxic_, really? Or _Fireworks_ and _Edge of Glory_ mashed up to the melody of _Viva La Vida_. Yeah, also cool. But not exactly anything they could perform.

In the end, they decided to do a low key duet, which would show off their voices and abilities to harmonize with each other, and would sound good with just the two of them and no music nor an entire choir in the background.

Kurt, Blaine and four other boys had been scheduled for auditions between eight and nine, and the fourth boy is with the Council now, meaning Kurt and Blaine are waiting alone in the hallway outside of the Warblers' room. Blaine is sitting on a table. Of course. If he isn't jumping on it, why not sit on it? And Kurt is standing in front of him, between his parted knees.

"Are you nervous?" Blaine murmurs, hands resting on Kurt's elbows. Kurt has wrapped his arms around Blaine's waist, and is awkwardly slumped against him.

"No. I feel overly confident about this, and that worries me."

"There are no guarantees," Blaine agrees. "But unless you made a fool of yourself last year, you should be fine. And, you didn't. You've proven yourself in rehearsals, you had a competition solo for Sectionals, you've been a profiled singer during other performances. You'll do great."

"Then why do we have to audition again?" Kurt sulks against Blaine's shirt.

"It's mostly a formality. The main issue is to replace the Seniors that graduated. But it gives the Council an opportunity to make other changes without having to obviously kick someone out. If someone isn't pulling his weight, or doesn't have the skills and voice we need to make a complete whole of harmonies and beats, then the Council can make adjustments."

"Well, I know Wes is drooling over my range," Kurt says dryly.

"Exactly," Blaine laughs, and his chest moves under Kurt's cheek.

"And they should plead temporarily insanity if they don't pick your ridiculously talented package," he continues, nuzzling against his boyfriend.

Blaine's laughter rumbles in his chest, tickling Kurt's ear.

"Hey Kurt?"

Kurt looks up to meet Blaine's eyes, commandeered by the softness and almost vulnerability to his voice. Blaine locks eyes with him, and it's so intense. He smiles with slightly parted lips, and Kurt waits expectantly for what he has to say. Blaine exhales deeply, wets his lips, but nothing comes out. He blinks, and shakes his head.

"May I kiss you?" he says.

"Always," Kurt answers, and leans in to meet him. The kiss is tender, sweet, and all the more intense when Blaine cups his face with both hands, leaning up to properly reach his lips. Kurt's arms flail uselessly for a while, until resting on Blaine's elbows.

"…up…" Kurt eventually mumbles against Blaine's lips.

"Hmm?"

Kurt forces himself to let go, and leans back sufficiently to be able to speak.

"We need to do some more warm up. Before our audition."

Blaine just smiles at him fondly, that smile Kurt has understood means Blaine finds him a tad ridiculous, but won't stop him.

"Okay. Guide us through it," Blaine says calmly, but his eyes are twinkling with mirth.

So Kurt does, until they are interrupted by Thad.

They walk in with respectable distance, because they know what a sucker for manners and courteous behaviour Wes is. Even though he's walked in on them making out several times, when Blaine's forgot to lock his door yet again, and he usually throws rolls of toilet paper on them until they acknowledge him.

"It's quite unusual to audition together like this," Wes says calmly, looking steadily at them.

Blaine looks at Kurt, and Kurt takes it as his key to answer.

"We believe doing a duet will give the Council an idea of other ways to arrange our performance numbers. We also believe a duet better shows our abilities as show choir singers than a simple solo."

"We also wanted to do something more… emotional," Blaine says. "Show you a different side to us."

"We're ready when you are," Wes says shortly, leaning on his elbow on the back of his chair, and Kurt rolls his eyes at that. Of course Wes would impersonate Simon Cowell.

Kurt and Blaine step apart, turning halfway towards each other. Blaine taps his foot soundlessly on the floor, giving them a visual of the rhythm, before he begins to sing.

"_Our love has changed, it's not the same. And the only way to say it is say it, it's better._" Blaine's velvet tenor embraces the song, and no matter how much of a professional Kurt thinks he is, he can feel his knees weaken.

"_I can't conceal this way I feel. For all the times we spend together, Forever just gets better._" Kurt sings, and he makes sure to look at the Council, but he's mostly drowning in Blaine's eyes.

They've arranged the chorus so that they both sing it, Blaine the melody and Kurt the harmonies the first time, and alternating later on.

"_Seem what I'm try to say is_," they sing, turning towards each other. "_You make things better. And no matter what the day is, With you here it's better._"

Blaine takes Kurt's hands in his. It's not exactly choreographed, but Kurt is still glad. It feels so wrong to sing this to Blaine without touching him, and if he doesn't, he'll float off. Blaine's touch is grounding him.

"_I stand by you if you stand by me_," Blaine sings, and steps closer to Kurt. Kurt can feel the puffs of breath against his face as Blaine sings, Kurt softly humming a harmony to Blaine's melody. "_I think it's time that I reveal it. 'Cause I believe it, it's better._"

Blaine wraps an arm around his waist, and Kurt rests his hand on Blaine's bicep, feeling it shift under his fingers. Blaine takes his other hand in his, resting the interlaced fingers over his heart, and waltz them together as they harmonize the chorus again.

"_Seem what I'm try to say is_, _You make things better. And no matter what the day is, If you're here it's better._"

"_Oh, the more I talk to you, I'm falling in love with everything you do!_" Blaine is singing so intensely and passionately, Kurt is unable to keep up with his part, and he's just gawking at the emotional eyes Blaine is giving him, being spun around by him.

They get to the climax of the song, putting even more heart, soul and passion to the last chorus. Blaine is singing back up by following the melody, while Kurt is singing on the higher range, pouring his heart out to the Council. Scratch that, he's singing to nobody but Blaine now.

"_Seem what I'm try to say is_," they sing, turning toward each other. "_You make things better. And no matter what the day is, With you here it's better._"

"_Our love has changed_," Blaine sings.

"_It's not the same_," Kurt replies.

"_And the only way to say it is say it, it's better_," they sing together, standing completely still, so close their chests are touching.

Kurt thinks he must be vibrating for the entire Council to see. The intensity in Blaine's eyes, his proximity, and how intense this is without even touching each other, it's overwhelming him, and it feels as if his heart is beating out of his body, and it feels as if his skin is too tight over bones and muscles. Looking at Blaine, he seems affected as well. They had rehearsed this, of course, but it hadn't been as overwhelming and emotionally bared as it had felt now. Kurt really needs to hold his boyfriend, but if he touches him even with a tiny pinkie, it won't be enough and he knows he won't be able to suffice with that. And he's not going to make out with his boyfriend in front of the Council during their audition. But if they aren't dismissed soon, Kurt might just explode.

"That isn't a typical song the Warblers would do," Thad says softly.

Kurt's fists are clenched by his sides, and his eyes are trained on the wall behind the trio, blinking furiously to prevent tears from escaping. He isn't even remotely sad. He's just… Emotionally overwhelmed, and stupidly happy.

"It isn't an audition for Sectionals," Blaine finally says after clearing his voice repeatedly. His voice still sounds rough. "We wanted to show you a side to us you may not have seen the last year."

"It's appreciated," Thad nods. "You'll hear from us. Thank you for coming," he murmurs.

The two boys turn towards the double oak door taking them out of the room, and Blaine takes Kurt's hand, clutching to it, literally. They're not running, but they are walking determinedly in a fast pace towards the dormitory building.

* * *

David opens one of the big drawers in the heavy pine table, and between music sheets, pencils, two dusty pitch pens and a metronome, he finds a package of handkerchiefs. He silently places it on the table in front of Wes.

Wes sniffs loudly, and rips the package open violently to get out a paper.

"Our baby is growing up," he whispers hoarsely. "He's fallen in love."

"They both have," David murmurs.

"That's the most fucking mind-consuming, impassioned, tear-jerking performance I've ever seen," Thad shakes his head.

Wes and David turn to stare at him. Thad never cusses.

* * *

"Blaine!" Kurt sobs breathlessly as soon as they are on the right side of the door to Blaine's room.

He all but falls towards Blaine, and Blaine catches him in his strong arms, holding him tightly. Not even sheet music could fit between their torsos at this point. They stand like that until their hearts aren't beating as forcefully, and their knees seem stronger. When Kurt lifts his head from Blaine's shoulder, they both blindly seek out the other's lips.

"That was…"

"Yeah, it was," they murmur against lips.

"Blaine?" Kurt eventually asks, after an unknown amount of time kissing, bodies flushed against each other, with Blaine pinning him to the door.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

Kurt's heart stutters at the endearment.

"Your door handle," he sighs, leaning forward and putting more weight on Blaine's torso.

"Oh my God, Kurt, I'm so sorry!" Blaine frantically apologizes, pulling Kurt away from the door.

Kurt cups his cheek and kisses him to shut him up.

"There's nothing in your bed that will poke me," Kurt says sweetly.

Blaine stills in his arms, forehead resting on his shoulder. He's trembling from suppressed laughter, Kurt realizes.

"Blaine!" Kurt moans mortified.

"Not helping, Kurt!" Blaine giggles.

"Keep that up, and there will never be any poking between the two of us," Kurt scolds, proud of how firm his voice is despite of his scarlet hue.

Blaine inhales shakily, as if he's trying to tame his compulsive laughter, and leans away from Kurt enough so that they both stand solidly on their own feet. He's fisting the lapels of Kurt's blazer, and Kurt is considering telling him off for doing so, when Blaine's hands wander down to the buttons.

"Let's get comfortable," he says and nods towards the bed behind him.

Kurt nods, and starts loosening Blaine's tie as Blaine unbuttons Kurt's blazer. They're not as desperately wound and affected by their audition anymore. The unyielding desire to crawl under the other's skin is replaced by a pleasant buzzing need to simply be close and cuddle.

They get out of blazers and ties, toe of their polished shoes, unbutton the top of their shirt, and walk hand in hand to Blaine's bed. There's no music, but Kurt's glad. He doesn't want any other sound to replace the memory of their duet.

He doesn't know what it means, and he doesn't know if Blaine experienced the same or if there's another reason for his reaction, but Kurt has never felt so strongly for Blaine as he did during that song. He's toying with different words that can explain, toying with naming the emotion, but he's keeping it to himself for now. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, he doesn't want to scare Blaine off in case Kurt is the only one feeling _that_ way, and he really doesn't want to consider if maybe Blaine isn't feeling as strongly about him as he feels about Blaine. And right now, he doesn't care about what it's called. He just needs to feel, in his heart and on his skin.

They crawl on their knees onto the bed, and scoots around to get comfortable, ending on their sides. Kurt is resting one hand on Blaine's heart, and the other on his upper arm, fingers running aimlessly over his defined muscle, as Blaine flexes his arm to cup Kurt's elbow and pull him even closer. The other arm is under Kurt body, with his hand resting on Kurt's lower back under the shirt. With their feet in a loose knot, they can hardly get any closer than this.

There are no other sounds in the room than their breathing, and for a long time they only stare into each other's eyes. It's a little bit difficult to breathe. Kissing lazily doesn't exactly help on that matter, but he won't give it up for anything in the world. He won't give up _Blaine_ for anything in the world.

* * *

**Lyrics from:  
**Boyzone - _Better_


	5. Birthday Boy

**Thank you so much for the reviews and feedback I get for this story. I have so much fun writing it, and I'm sorry I kept you waiting for an update, but I've spent most of the time being sick, so... I hope the fluff fest can make up for it, though. **

**I haven't seen the season 5-premiere of Glee, so please, please, please no, no no spoilers!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or anything else you might recognize in here.**

* * *

When Kurt transferred to Dalton and was accepted into the Warblers, they threw a big welcome-party for him, which Blaine had been in charge of. He'd invited New Directions, and made it a theme party with costumes, décor and gadgets from the 1950s. When Kurt turned 18, he'd been kidnapped by Finn to a surprise birthday party in the Berry-basement, and Blaine and the closest Warblers had showed up – and of course his boyfriend had been part of the organizing committee for that party as well.

When Kurt thinks about it, Blaine has done plenty of grand gestures for him, both as friend and boyfriend. And it's about time that Kurt steps up his game. Blaine's approaching birthday seems like a perfect occasion. He deserves a big party. He's a well-liked, admired and popular boy at Dalton, and he is constantly giving and giving of himself. He's also a modest boy, and despite of what an entertainer he is, he can also be incredibly shy. He has no qualms representing Dalton as acclaimed fencer, or speaking passionately as the student president, or leading the Warblers to victories. But when Blaine is being simply Blaine, not on behalf of anyone, he is a humble boy who stays in the shadows, not pushing forward to gain anything for himself. He'd probably go to war for Kurt, but he shrugs it off if something should and could be his personal issue. The endearing boy who drove to Lima to help an almost stranger with his homophobic-closeted-bully-case, but doesn't speak up about his own problems.

That boy deserves the best birthday party Kurt is able to organize.

The thought came to him sometime this summer, and he'd started making plans, writing flow charts, gathering colour samples, testing ideas and preparing invitations. August 27th falls on a Monday, so Kurt decided that the party would have to be held on the Saturday before. He'd even discussed it briefly with Mr. Anderson, to make sure he didn't interfere with any family traditions. Mr. Anderson really hadn't begun thinking about his youngest son's birthday seven weeks in advance, so he promised whatever kind of celebration he planned wouldn't collide with Kurt's party.

Kurt had hesitated inviting New Directions, because truth be spoken they were his friends, weren't they? It was Finn who had talked reason with him.

"Don't be stupid, dude."

"You don't get to call me both stupid and dude in the same sentence."

"I do when it's true," Finn shrugged. "You're still one of us even if you go to Dalton. Blaine is a cool dude, and he makes you happy. All smilely and stuff. And now that he's your boyfriend, he's one of us. Just like…"

"Just like who?" Kurt had asked curiously.

"Huh. I guess none of us have ever dated outside New Directions."

"Except Rachel and Wes," Kurt had pointed out.

"Yeah…" Finn had tensed at that. "And we celebrated 4th of July with the Warblers," Finn continued, shaking his head. "You should invite us to Blaine's birthday. We wanna be there."

Kurt had conferred with Mercedes to get her input on the question, as she tends to think quite differently from his step brother.

"Don't be stupid, Boo. We may not be his closest friends, but how do you expect us to get to know him better if you keep treating us as two different groups of friends? Set the date, and we'll be there."

So that solved that.

He'd been thinking about where to host the party. He was far from as rich as some of their classmates, so he couldn't book a restaurant or a coffee shop. They could of course stay at Dalton, but then everyone from Lima would need a place to crash, or would have to leave early for the two hours drive back. It wouldn't be as easy to have 12 strangers staying the night as it had been after Kurt's Welcome to the Warblers-party, as the school administration announced they'd treat curfew stricter this semester. After a lenient approach to it for a couple of years, the students had developed a fairly irresponsible and immature attitude to their beds. The restrictions also made it more difficult to host a party on Dalton grounds, especially a fun one.

In the end, it was Blaine's dad who came up with the best suggestion. They could have Blaine's birthday party in the Anderson home. Mr. Anderson had quickly added that he knew partying with your parents around wasn't the coolest thing, so he was willing to make himself scarce in exchange of Cooper chaperoning them. He also negotiated in a birthday dinner with his sons and Kurt on Sunday to the deal. Kurt suspected it was to make sure they couldn't drink too much, but all in all, he thought it was a good deal. His wasn't sure if his worries about the party increased or diminished after Cooper texted him dibs on any and every blackmail-worthy pictures of a plastered Blaine.

Finally, Kurt could start plotting the really important parts of the party.

When he came back to Dalton for the new school year, he had most of the party ready. But the biggest challenge was to find the perfect gift for Blaine. This would be the first gift he gave him as boyfriends, and Kurt was suffering from performance anxiety. He didn't want to disappoint him.

He ended up discussing it several nights in a row with his roommate, Nick.

"I want to give him something personal, something only I could have given him. A _boyfriend_ gift," he sighs.

"There's probably nobody who knows him as well as you do."

"There are a lot of nice things I could give," Kurt agrees, having visited several malls on his search. "But is it good enough?"

"Have you googled for suggestions?" Nick teases.

"Of course I have. The consensus seems to be sex."

"Well, you wouldn't want anyone else to give him that," Nick giggles.

"You think?" Kurt deadpans. "I'm just not sure if I'm ready to give it yet."

"Then you don't," Nick says easily. "Any particular reason you don't want?"

"Plenty," Kurt says, and fortunately, Nick knows him well enough to not chase it.

* * *

"Do you have to go?" Blaine pouts, pleading with Kurt to stay.

"I do. I promised to meet Mercedes today. I'm already running late," Kurt says apologetically, checking his hair in the mirror one last time.

"Give her my regards?" Blaine says softly, and crawls out of Kurt's bed.

"Of course," Kurt smiles fondly, and meets him halfway to kiss him sweetly.

Blaine watches how Kurt adjusts the strap of his satchel across his chest, and when his boyfriend finally looks ready to leave, he gives him one more kiss.

"Drive safely," he murmurs.

They leave the room together, but walk in opposite directions. Kurt headed out, and Blaine walks back to his room. He has homework he can do, and he should really stop being so co-dependent of his boyfriend. But he enjoys spending time with Kurt, and can anyone really blame him for that? He needs to prepare the next student council-meeting, and the first fencing tournament of the school year isn't far away. There are plenty of things he could do. What he ends up doing, is resting on his back while scrolling through pictures on his phone, the newest mostly of Kurt or the two of them together.

He's interrupted in his admiration of his boyfriend's physical attributes, when the phone chimes.

"Cooper?"

"Blainers. I don't know where your room is, and this building looks like a medieval labyrinth. Come get me."

"Wait, you're at Dalton?"

"Where else would I be? I know perfectly well where your room back home is."

"But…" Blaine splutters. "We are supposed to have dinner tomorrow."

"Yes, but I came early to Ohio. And now I want to spend some quality time with my brother."

"Okay, tell me where you are and I'll give you directions."

"No, we're leaving. I need my queer eye-baby brother for the straight big brother. I'll wait for you in the parking lot."

"I need to change if I'm going to be in public," Blaine stresses.

"Fifteen minutes," Cooper's voice is firm through the receiver, and Blaine begins tugging off his sweatpants while still on the phone.

"That's hardly enough," he says, glad he had at least made his hair this morning.

"Fourteen minutes, or I'll come get you. I don't care if you walk around the mall butt naked, as long as you make me look good."

"You just said you don't know where my room is," Blaine sighs, and flips through his wardrobe, comparing his red and his purple pants. This feels like a purple day, but where's the belt that goes with those?

"I'm sure I'll find someone who knows you," he says, and Blaine can almost see his brother pointing in his direction.

"Okay, okay, I'll be there," Blaine hisses, throwing two discarded shirts to the floor. Kurt would kill him on behalf of his clothes if he saw.

* * *

Kurt didn't lie to Blaine. He had planned to see Mercedes today. At Blaine's surprise birthday-party, at the Anderson house, tonight. Kurt went straight to Columbus, where Devon Anderson awaited him to prepare the party. He had in advance hid his bags in the car, with everything he'd need this weekend. And he had gotten the address from another conspirator, Cooper, to make sure he wouldn't get lost.

"Good morning, Kurt. Do you need any help with the bags?"

"That's okay, Mr. Anderson, I've got it covered," Kurt smiles at his boyfriend's father.

"It looks as if you have a game plan," he chuckles, looking at the amount of things Kurt is bringing, and probably also remembering the detailed phone conversations and emails from Kurt the last weeks.

"I believe great achievements come from thorough preparations, Mr. Anderson," Kurt says shyly. He hasn't spent more than short, single moments alone with the man, and he's still threading the water, figuring out how relaxed and entirely _Kurt_ he can be with the man. His comment gives him a rich round of laugher in reward, at least.

"Cooper is keeping Blaine distracted until five PM, when they are expected to be here. I'll stay until they get back here," Mr. Anderson calmly states, and Kurt knows it's not an offer. He doesn't mind, he can understand the man wanting to see his son's face when he discovers the surprise. "How are we going to kill the next five hours?"

"Not by wasting it, that's for sure. We have a lot to do," Kurt gently admonishes, turning to get the last bags from his car. Behind him, he can hear the adult chuckle, and from the corner of his eye, he can see him begin to carry the bags inside.

After a quick strategy meeting over two cups of coffee that Ella the housekeeper brings them, they attack their individual to do-lists, choreographed by Kurt.

Kurt has during the summer gotten to know his boyfriend's father better, and he knows he's a man of his words, and a powerful man that isn't afraid of taking charge and is used to leading big, complicated projects. It has made him an important asset for the campaign Burt is running as candidate for Congress. But Kurt is pleasantly surprised to see that Devon Anderson isn't difficult to command either. Even more surprising is how the man isn't afraid of getting his hands or shirt dirty. Kurt may have been superficial and prejudiced, but he had until now had problems imagining the rich Mr. Anderson pulling up his sleeves and use his hands. He had almost expected some kind of servant to do the dirty work. It leaves him humbled, and slightly humiliated by his own thinking.

Mr. Anderson prepares the outdoor area – cleaning the barbeque, assembling the new garden chairs he insisted on buying to supplement what he already owned, heating up the Jacuzzi, and setting up lanterns per Kurt's descriptions. Closer to the estimated time of arrival, he's instructed to run a load of bath towels in the dryer to make them fluffier and tepid for those who want a dip in the tub, and to pour ice for the soda cans in a sink basin Kurt found in the garage with dead petunias.

In the meantime, Kurt spends some time in the kitchen with Ella. She's already marinated chicken breasts and red meat, and the fridge is brimming with hot dogs and corncobs. Blaine loves s'mores, so Kurt has made sure they have plenty of supplies. He quickly whips up a big batch of Blaine's favourite cookies, but there will also be a big birthday cake. Mr. Anderson had offered to order a fancily decorated cake from a bakery, but Kurt had insisted on making it himself. Or rather; them. He would make a red velvet cake, as it was Blaine's favourite, and a rich chocolate cake with heavy frosting and peanuts, an advanced classic most people liked. There will be close to 30 guests, so two cakes and 60 cookies are the least they need, he'd decided. While he focuses on the sugary treats – because no matter how sensible Blaine is, he has a big sweet tooth and will probably never share Kurt's food regiment, so Kurt is at least going to make sure that his birthday cakes are perfect – he talks Ella through the green salad and pasta salad he had envisioned with the barbeque food. She indulges him in his ministrations, despite of her professional career.

With the cakes in the fridge and the cookies on a cooling rack, Kurt puts on the supervision hat, and does the tour to see if everything is ready. Mr. Anderson has decorated the garden and living room with balloons and streamers. It may be a tad too close to a child's birthday party for Kurt's taste, but he doesn't feel in position to object or criticize. He'd bought colour coordinated candles and thick napkins, though. And nice-looking disposable plates, glasses and cutlery, because with the amount of guests it wouldn't be sensible to use anything else, unless they wanted to spend the entire night loading the dish washer.

Everything looks nice. Music lists are ready to be played, the barbeque is ready to be lit, the food is done, and the weather is still on their side with a big yellow disc on a baby blue slate. In thirty minutes, the guests are expected. In one hour, Blaine and Cooper are expected. He twirls around to see if he's overlooked anything.

"You really care about my son, don't you?" Mr. Anderson startles him.

Kurt had been lost in thoughts, adjusting the flower decorations on the food table outside. He looks at the man.

"Of course I do."

"That's good. I'm glad he has someone who does. Someone like you."

Kurt has to admit he's confused, but he smiles and shrugs.

"You're drumming together an amazing party with all of this. He's lucky," Mr. Anderson muses.

"I'd do anything for him," Kurt murmurs. He isn't exactly used to emotional conversations with his boyfriend's father, but he feels oddly in the spotlight, as if he's being evaluated. He's fighting the urge to defend himself further.

"Do you want to wash up before the guests arrive?" Mr. Anderson chuckles, and nods at the apron Kurt had found in the depths of a cupboard.

Kurt knows he's already running out of time, and nods gratefully.

"I'll be back soon," Kurt promises, and heads for the stairs up to Blaine's room where his bag is.

"Take your time," Mr. Anderson calls after him. "Ella or I will open the door if someone's early."

Fortunately, Kurt has already planned his outfit, so he just needs a quick shower to get rid of the odd mixed scent of soil and cocoa permeating his skin, style his hair, and run through a light skin care regime including sun lotion as they'll be outside for several hours in the bright sun.

Kurt has never gotten ready this fast before, but he feels like partly host, and the host shouldn't be stuck in the shower while the guests sip at the punch. He takes a last glance in the mirror, nods satisfied at his reflection, and hurries downstairs. He's wearing white skinnies. They are old, but he's noticed a very appreciative, low look from Blaine the few times he's worn them. On top, he has a crisp white short sleeve, fairly boring and anonymous for Kurt Hummel until he tightens an emerald green brocade corset over it. Black slim tie, and grey suspenders hanging down his thighs. He completes the outfit with the Alexander McQueen Black Joust High Tops he got from his dad and Carole for Christmas. They have quickly become his favourites, especially on a day like today when he expects dancing and a lot of standing. Heavy boots are impractical on days like these. Deciding to not care about what Mr. Anderson might think, he adds _guyliner_ as the finishing touch.

When he walks downstairs, most of the guests have arrived, and are crowded in the garden with fruit punch in their glasses. Kurt greets them enthusiastically, and receives hugs from Nick, Jeff and some of the girls, and _bro hugs_ from several of the guys. A quick head count reveals that all are present. Mr. Anderson is fussing with the barbeque to make it ignite, with Wes and David making smart ass-comments about how helpful lighter fluid and petrol can be to make a fire. Ella has begun bringing the food from the kitchen outside, with Tina, Quinn and Rachel helping her. Puck and Thomas are diffusing Glee club-dividers, and discussing music by the speakers. Flora is standing in a corner with some girls from her school who are dating Warblers, or very willing to be dating them.

Two cell phones chirp simultaneously, and both Kurt and Mr. Anderson reach for their pockets. They look at each other, smirk, and nod.

"Everybody?" Kurt shouts, and claps his hands for attention. "According to Cooper, The Birthday Boy is three minutes away, so get in position!"

Everybody quickly shuffle inside, and someone is sending around a bag with bright, tacky, noisy birthday whistles.

* * *

"Thank you, Coop, this was so cool of you," Blaine gushes, pulling carefully at his new sweater vest.

When Cooper had taken him shopping, it had turned into a pick-an-outfit-and-it'll-be-your-birthday-gift kind of day. Cooper had talked him into wearing it when they went home, so he could show it to Kurt immediately. Because according to Cooper, he'd told Kurt to get his sweet ass to Columbus for dinner. The familiar Navigator in the drive-way confirms it. So Blaine is wearing the purple pants he picked this morning, and his new clothes are a baby pink polo shirt, light grey sweater vest and black bowtie. He feels really good, to be honest, and it's nice to wear colours again after spending the last two weeks in the uniform and Dalton-themed sweats. Cooper had encouraged him to pick more clothes, but Blaine really couldn't accept more from him, and was just happy that he came all the way from LA for him.

Cooper locks the car, and they walk up the stairs of the porch.

"My pleasure, Squirt," Cooper beams, and pats him so roughly on the back Blaine almost stumbles in the stairs. "Klutz," he grins.

"The hell, Coop?" Blaine exclaims annoyed, doing a double-take to regain his balance as his brother unlocks the entrance door. "Quit being an asshole."

"I thought assholes were part of the package on your team?" Cooper grins cheekily as he opens the door.

Blaine considers replying with something female and vulgar, words he usually wouldn't take in his mouth as an insult, but fortunately, he's stopped from dropping ten years from his mental age.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BLAINE!"

The living room is packed with friendly faces, grinning at him, colourful whistles blowing in every direction and making a terrible noise.

"Oh my God," Blaine whispers, hands in front of his mouth. "Oh. My. God!" he cries, and Cooper pushes him to step closer. Kurt meets him halfway.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," Kurt smiles shyly, and leans in to hug him. Blaine's breath hitches when he takes in how good his boyfriend looks. He inhales the scent of Kurt right under his ear, and the proximity is making him dizzy.

"Care to share?" Nick grins, glomps the both of them, and within soon Blaine is in the bottom of a big group hug.

* * *

The party is a huge success, and Blaine's cheeks hurt from all the smiling and laughing he's been doing. His dad had wished him happy birthday, encouraged them all to behave, and told them he'd be back for an early dinner tomorrow. As he left, he reminded them all to listen to Cooper.

When Mr. Anderson's car can no longer be heard, Cooper presents a champagne bottle with flourish, and pours two red solo cups for Blaine and Kurt. That's all the encouragement Puck needs to crack out the beer and wine coolers. Bryan and Robin of the Warblers have a bottle of vodka each, and within soon various alcoholic beverages are being cooled among the ice and sodas in the basin.

Still, the party doesn't end too wild. Maybe Cooper's presence takes the edge of the worst party animals. Maybe the delicious food counteracts some of the potential effects the liquids can instil. The weather is fantastic, and the Anderson garden is big, so everyone is hanging outside with good food and great company.

Some have brought swim wear, and hit the Jacuzzi. Some hadn't thought about that, but still manage to soak in the hot tub in their underwear. Blaine and Kurt have a lot of fun watching Cooper trying to hit on Santana, until she bluntly waves him off to make out with Brittany. Blaine has never seen David, Trent and Robin so slack jawed, sitting merely feet from the girls in the water.

There are of course gifts. From Brittany he gets a sparkling birthday tiara. He doesn't quite know what to say, but she promptly places it in his gelled hair. Kurt calls him his Disney prince, so it can't be too bad. From Santana he gets a book she claims is the chronicles of his ancestors. It's _The Hobbit_. He's relieved, remembering the gift the girls gave Kurt for his birthday. From Nick, Jeff, Wes and David he gets a black and gold suitjamas, just like the one Barney Stinson wears, and Blaine's ecstatic – he can't wait to go to bed! Kurt rolls his eyes, but smiles fondly at him, and when he runs the fabric between his thumb and index finger he just hmm's intrigued.

Blaine shouldn't have relaxed, though, because the gift from Puck is basically a gift bag of the naughty kind. He blushes and coughs awkwardly, wondering how the Warblers will react to such a gift, but it's Cooper who peaks over his shoulder and whistles.

"Oh, new equipment for your team," he grins, shuffling through the condoms. "I like these," he exclaims, picking up a box.

"Are you drunk?" Blaine hisses, grabbing the prophylactics from his brother.

"Am not," Cooper objects, and tops off their cups of champagne.

An hour later, they're sprawled on two comfortable garden chairs, an empty bottle of champagne twirling between them, and Cooper's lecturing him of varieties and options in the world of condoms. Finn's leaning against the wall close enough to hear Cooper's safe sex-monologue, but looks completely unconvincingly uninterested, whistling and looking pointedly at the sky. Rory - who Blaine doesn't know, but Kurt invited everyone from New Directions, and it's so cool to have someone smaller than Blaine in his birthday party - is blatantly eavesdropping with wide eyes.

Blaine knows he's rude, but he fades Cooper out, and takes in the scene of the Anderson garden. It's the best birthday party ever! Kurt is standing by the barbeque, chatting animatedly with Nick and Jeff, who are loading their plates with more food. As if he can sense Blaine's eyes on him, he turns around, and their eyes easily find the other across the grass. Kurt tilts his head slightly, and smiles at him, that tender smile he seems to have reserved for Blaine only. Blaine's heart stutters, and he smiles back, realizing it's probably more of a dopey grin than a seducing smile.

* * *

Kurt peaks out behind the curtain, watching his boyfriend discussing animatedly with Mike and Trent. He smiles warmly at the sight, and turns around to get the cakes and cookies ready.

He'd initially laughed at Blaine, that dork, who'd sung him an adapted version of _Happy Birthday Sweet Sixteen_ for his birthday. But when Kurt had tried to find a proper song to sing back, he'd struggled. A lot of birthday songs are about birthday sex, and just no. He won't pull a Marilyn Monroe either. So the regular birthday song it is.

Kurt decorates the red velvet cake with the 19 candles, suspecting Blaine will get a thrill out of making a wish and blowing out the candles, no matter his age.

"Need a hand?" Rachel offers from the door opening.

"Yes, please," Kurt smiles. There are plates and forks outside, but he's not willing to test if he can carry two cakes and a basket of cookies at the same time.

"You're glowing," she comments.

"Thanks, but I'm not pregnant," Kurt snorts, rummaging a drawer for matches or a lighter.

"Ha, ha, ha," she harks. "What I mean is, you look really happy. I see the way you look at each other, and I see you with the Warblers. You look so happy and confident. I see now how bad McKinley was for you," she says sadly. She had been the one who was the least understanding about Kurt's transfer, and she had been the one to nag the most about Kurt's return when Karofsky disappeared from McKinley.

"I miss you," Kurt admits, and hugs her. "I'm always going to love you guys in New Directions. But I needed more."

"You deserve the best. And I can't blame you for dating a Warbler," she giggles.

Kurt bumps his shoulder against her, and smiles slyly.

"Come on, let's bring our boys sugar," he encourages, finishing lightening the candles.

"Don't worry, I'm fully prepared to lead us through the birthday song," Rachel beams, and marches out of the kitchen with the chocolate cake. She stops abruptly. "Umm, unless perhaps you'd want to do that? And walk out first?" she offers shyly.

"Don't mind if I do," he says and breezes past her with a flourish and a wink.

Once outside, he stops silently, waiting for someone to notice him and join in on the song. He clears his throat to garner attention, but Rachel whistles shrilly behind him.

"_Happy birthday to you_," Kurt begins singing, and Blaine immediately turns around from Mike and Thad.

"_Happy birthday to you_," Kurt continues, and members of both Glee clubs join in. Thad pushes Blaine closer towards Kurt, and he's grinning so hard his eyes are nothing but narrow slits.

"_Happy birthday, dear Blaine_," Kurt sings, getting goosebumps from how the people around him are improvising harmonies. Blaine is standing merely a few feet from Kurt, and everyone is standing in a circle around him. He's clutching a hand in front of his heart, biting on the knuckles of his other hand, head tilted and just looking at Kurt.

"_Happy birthday to you!_"

Applause, cheering, hollering, some have found the birthday whistles from earlier, and there's toasting and clinking of bottle necks.

"You guys…" Blaine giggles, but his eyes are trained on Kurt. With a few steps, he's in his space, or at least as close it is possible to get with the cake between them. Cooper saves the cake from Kurt, so his baby brother can kiss his boyfriend.

"Make a wish!" someone yells in the background.

Blaine straightens up blushingly, and turns toward the guests. Cooper has placed the cake safely on the food table, and is hooking the cookie basket off Kurt's arm. Kurt wraps the arm around Blaine's waist, and leads him over.

"Make a wish!" The encouragement is repeated.

Blaine closes his eyes, inhales deeply, smiles, exhales, and finishes off all of the candles in one very long breath.

"Now that's the lungs of a seasoned singer," Rachel beams, applauding him for his success.

"You made this, right?" Blaine asks Kurt, and Kurt nods. "Good," Blaine continues, and helps himself to a big slice of cake. "I love your cooking and baking and everything you do in the kitchen."

He steps back, so his friends can get to the cake.

"Aren't you having any?" he asks Kurt confused.

"I had too much chicken," Kurt sighs, "and too much of everything else. I need to watch my figure."

"Your figure is fine," Blaine snorts, scooping a big piece of cake onto his fork. He pointedly roams his eyes across Kurt's body. "Very fine," he nods, and pushes the fork through Kurt's half parted lips.

"You guys are so married," Cooper snorts as he passes them.


	6. Birthday Weekend

**I want to remain spoiler free of season 5 until I get to watch it, and kindly ask that it be respected.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, although I'd be thrilled to be official Glee Party Planner.**

* * *

Blaine is on fire, mingling and soaking up all the love and attention. His friends have cheered and toasted for him, and he's lost count of how much he's had. There's been a few shots, there's been beer, and there's been glasses of really yummy content. Blaine is happy!

At some point, he put on the top of the pyjama he got from the boys over his clothes, and Kurt keeps running his fingers over the smooth fabric whenever they're close. Unique, who Blaine has never met before, but wants to meet again, because she's awesome, had at some point snatched his tiara and struts around proudly, wearing it like a true queen.

Blaine isn't plastered. He can still dance without tripping over, completely, and that's actually progress from when he's sober. He's drunk enough to want things with Kurt he's sober enough to know he can't. Right now, he's resting on a sun bed with a diet coke Kurt gave him to calm down, and is taking in the party scene.

Bryan had lost his ability to speak for a while when he discovered Unique's presence. He'd been fanboying over her ever since Nationals, and to find himself in proximity of that fabulous girl was almost more than he could take. But he'd manned up, and been a true Dalton gentleman throughout the evening, offering to bring her food, drinks, introduce her to people, making sure she wasn't cold, and tending to all of her potential and improbable needs. Unique was smiling coquettishly, preening under the attention, but not giving anything of what she was thinking away, keeping him on a distance, although obviously appreciating his gestures.

Mike and Cameron were battling each other on the most boneless dance moves. Artie, Tina and Thad were discussing some Manga comic. Kurt and Flora had been deep in conversation in a secluded corner, but now Kurt's dancing with Mercedes, and Flora's sitting quietly watching Brittany and Santana. Blaine has happily mingled from crowd to crowd, receiving a lot of hugs and kisses to his cheeks, and even more birthday gifts. Hair gel and socks given tongue-in-cheek, a record he's been looking for forever, and from Mercedes a new cover to his phone with a picture of Kurt and him on. It may be his favourite gift ever.

He's resting on his side on the sun bed, playing an awesome melody on a purple birthday whistle Jeff gave him. He's totally rocking _Fireworks_.

"You're drunk," Kurt laughs, plopping down by his bent knees. He takes the whistle from him, even though Blaine tries to object, but he's easily distracted when Kurt kisses him.

"Am not," he murmurs against Kurt's lips, ignoring how he scrunches his nose. "Cooper is watching out for me," Blaine proclaims with a flourish, and wraps his arms around Kurt, trying to make him lay down next to him.

"Well, Cooper is most definitely drunk," Kurt laughs, fighting against Blaine's romantic ninja moves.

"How so?"

"He's giving Rachel acting lessons."

"That's really not surprising, he always does that," Blaine snorts.

"He's not helping her reach Broadway, that's for sure," Kurt says sardonically.

"Is he trying to convert her to Hollywood?" Blaine giggles happily. If Kurt won't rest with him, at least he can sit and cuddle, and he tries to get up and wrap his legs around Kurt. Stupid furniture is uncooperative, though.

"Blaine," Kurt says sternly. "The only movies that need the kind of input he's giving, is the no-budget, amateur variety."

"What?" Blaine gasps, falling down again. "What is my brother doing?"

"He's teaching Rachel to _fake it_," Kurt hisses, pointing at Cooper, who's leaning on his fingers against the wall, head turned over his shoulder, ass shot out for emphasize, and he's moaning shamelessly.

"Always, always turn into the camera," he slurs, pointing in the approximate direction of Rachel.

Rachel is listening intently, scribbling idly in a small star-shaped notebook, while Wes is wheezing next to her, hands clutching his stomach.

"Oh God…" Blaine mutters. Kurt takes his hands and helps him up from the sun bed, while he keeps staring at his big brother.

"I'll make coffee," Kurt offers, squeezing Blaine's hand comfortingly, before heading inside.

Blaine walks over to his brother, who has managed to gather quite an audience.

"My women never need to fake it," Puck brags, grinning proudly.

"Are you sure about that?" Santana parries, poking the tip of her tongue out of the corner of her mouth, lounging with Brittany sprawled in her lap.

"I've never gotten any complains," Puck says defensively.

"You haven't handed out evaluation forms either," Santana smirks.

"Evaluation says we used to be monkeys, but I'm really a Scorpio," Brittany explains to nobody in particular.

David and Thad look confused at the cheerleader.

"Cooper, why don't you take a break in your teaching?" Blaine encourages, trying to move his brother away from the wall.

"Why would Blaine interrupt his brother when he's having sex with a ghost?" Brittany asks confused. "Or are they about to share the love, like you and I did with…"

"Remember I said it was a secret," Santana quickly interrupts, shoving her straw into Brittany's mouth. A fair amount of the boys are looking interested at the girls. "What?" Santana bites. "The chorizo party is over, I'm not gonna have me any of that ever again," she waves in their general direction.

In the meantime, Blaine has managed to coax Cooper to a chair away from the others. Kurt returns quickly after with an espresso from the Anderson coffee machine.

"I'm brewing a kettle, but I thought he might need something strong instantly," Kurt explains.

"Thank you," Blaine murmurs, accepting the smaller cup from his boyfriend. "Here, Coop, you should drink this." Watching his big brother give his friends acting tips for _intimate_ _scenes_ has sobered him up strangely quickly.

"Coffee stunts your growth," Cooper slurs.

"Yeah, well I think you're done growing anyway. 27 years old, remember?"

"I guess all hope for your growth spurt is out, huh?" Cooper sighs.

Santana cackles in the background, and Kurt swiftly guides her away. Cooper doesn't need an audience to boost him.

"I got some water," David says softly, crouching down next to Blaine, on eyelevel with Cooper.

"It's a good thing Dad provided me with a chaperone," Blaine snorts.

David helps Blaine manhandle Cooper upstairs, so he can rest in Blaine's bed for a while. David goes garbage can-hunting while Blaine peals off some of Cooper's clothes. They leave the water bottle on the nightstand.

Downstairs, most people have ventured inside. Despite the various states of not-quite-sober, the guests must have cooperated and brought most of the food inside while Blaine was upstairs. The uneaten barbeque-food is covered up and placed safely in the fridge. The sink basin is left on one of the thick towels, so they can continue drinking without ruining the floors. The music is brought inside, and the good mood hasn't gone anywhere. Some of the furniture has been pushed away to clear a dance floor, and Blaine briefly regrets dumping his brother upstairs. His room is perfect for dancing, with the disco ball and everything.

Two arms wrap around Blaine's waist from behind, and his favourite murmurs in his ear:

"Dance with me?"

Blaine turns around in Kurt's arms.

"Always."

The speakers are playing something he can't bother to identify right now; he's more occupied with feeling his boyfriend's body against his. Kurt moves his arms up, elbows resting lightly on his shoulders as his fingers play with some loose curls at the nape of Blaine's neck.

If Blaine had been entirely sober, he would have censored himself, but Kurt is so close, smells so good, and has looked irresistible all night. Because those pants… And suspenders worn like that… And the eyeliner… But the pièce de résistance is the corset. His thumbs play with the laces hanging low on Kurt's back, tracing them down to Kurt's belt.

"Kurt…"

"Hmm?" Kurt hums silently, fingers tightening in Blaine's hair. Blaine has the presence of mind to dance them to a quieter corner, turning Kurt towards the wall, away from the others.

"Is this okay?" Blaine's fingertips tease just below the belt, a thumb hooked in a belt loop.

"Yeah," Kurt exhales into his mouth, kissing him dirty from the go.

Blaine takes whatever he can get, while sliding his fingers further down, wiggling them into Kurt's back pockets. Kurt inhales sharply, but pushes closer, and Blaine can feel his butt cheeks clench under his hands. Kurt tugs at his hair, and Blaine opens his mouth wider to let Kurt in. The music is captivating, and forces them to move to the rhythm, song after song.

He can feel himself harden, and that's what brings him to his senses. Blaine takes a discreet step to create some space between them, and moves his hand to rest on the small of Kurt's back. He nuzzles his nose along Kurt's jaw, and kisses him on his neck.

"Thank you," he whispers into Kurt's ear. "It's the best birthday ever. You're wonderful. I don't know what I did to deserve you."

"I settle for nothing but the best," Kurt preens, squeezing his biceps.

The music changes to something quieter, and they sway to the ballad, not really moving their feet, just holding each other closely.

Eventually, the party dwindles down. Mr. Anderson had offered his room as a third guestroom, and Ella had changed the sheets and prepared the bed. Tina, Mercedes and Rachel decided to force their eyes open for an impromptu girls' night. Unique looked lost, until Mercedes reminded her she was one of the girls and waved her with them. Santana yawned about how lame it was, but Blaine later saw her lead Brittany and their sleeping bags upstairs.

Nick and Jeff are curled up on the peach chaiselong in the library. Flora and the three girls from her school are offered one of the guestrooms, while the boys from New Directions take the other with their various sleeping bags and blankets.

"Hudson and I are gonna share a bed, and that's not gay," Puck states. "And I'm gonna carry Artie upstairs bridal style. Not gay either," he slurs. "But if I was gay, I could totally be gay for Anderson. You're cool, dude. Happy fucking birthday," he grins, offering a high five. Blaine laughs out loud, and raises his hand.

"Noah, stay away from my man," Kurt growls, and Puck looks startled at him.

"Damn, Hummel!"

Kurt glares playfully, and shoos them upstairs. Mike decides to fold Artie's chair and bring it with them, for no obvious reason.

Wes and David call dibs on the couch in Blaine's room, and Blaine and Kurt make sure that the rest of the Warblers are comfortable in the couches and sun beds downstairs, before climbing up. Cooper is still sprawled on Blaine's bed, and doesn't even move when they arrive. He's taking up more than half of the bed, and Blaine tries to adjust his arms and legs to create some space for them. He isn't quite successful, but in the end climbs into bed, pulling Kurt with him. Blaine insists on being the little spoon, and Kurt happily agrees. He kisses Blaine's shoulder, and snorts when Cooper suddenly snores loudly in front of them.

"I don't know if I can sleep in that noise," he giggles.

"If we join our forces, I'm sure we can kick him out of the bed if needed."

"That's just an excuse to get me alone in your bed, Anderson," Kurt purrs.

"We can hear you!" Wes singsongs.

"Doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you," Blaine sings back, all the while Kurt exclaims indignantly, swatting at his arm.

From the couch, they can hear exaggerated kissing noises.

"Okay, it bothers us," Blaine yells, giggling. Cooper snores, and turns away from Blaine and Kurt. Kurt tightens his hold around his waist, and within soon, they both drift asleep.

* * *

Morning comes too soon for Blaine's liking. Morning is too bright, too warm, too restricted. The covers are heavy, his head is pounding, the bed feels crowded, he's sweaty and struggles breathing properly. They forgot to pull the curtains, and the sun is pinching at his eyelids, even though he's squeezing them shut, trying to block everything out. Blindly, he kicks with his feet to get the cover off, to give him some air, cool his skin down.

"Ugh," a voice grunts behind him. A voice belonging to someone Blaine's kicking. Someone who's holding him close to their torso, and has a long arm slumped over his shoulder. Blaine squints at the hand, and studies it. He recognizes that wristwatch.

"Coop?" Blaine harks, voice still rough from sleep, and not enough sleep, and probably too much alcohol. "When is Dad coming home?"

No response. So Blaine postpones the project of rousing his big brother out of bed, knowing from experience that can be a challenge. Instead, he focuses on the warm body in front of him. Kurt is curled up in his arms, back pressed against his chest, and Blaine's foot resting between Kurt's ankles. Their fingers are interlaced, resting on Kurt's stomach.

Blaine shifts closer to Kurt, away from his brother, and stretches his left arm in the air, before draping it along the pillow over their heads. Awkwardly, he runs his fingers through Kurt's hair. It's nice.

He can feel it when Kurt wakes up, how his body tenses, stretches, and then melts against his body again.

"Am I in bed with both of the Anderson brothers?" Kurt mumbles. Blaine hums in affirmative. "Thought so." He rolls 270 degrees around, onto his back, away from Blaine, except he pulls Blaine with him, separating them from Cooper. Blaine gets comfortable with his head on Kurt's shoulder, Kurt wrapping an arm around his waist, and Blaine trails a finger slowly up and down Kurt's other arm.

"It was a really good party."

"It was," Kurt agrees.

"And I only have one regret." He feels Kurt, the Party Organizer, tense in his arms, so he continues before the boy can worry himself into frenzy. "I forgot to wear the rest of my new pyjamas."

"There will be other occasions," Kurt coos, as if he was a child. Blaine wants to answer accordingly, but is interrupted by his own pressing yawn.

"I feel exhausted."

"You're getting old," Kurt teases.

"I'm not 19 yet, not until tomorrow."

Kurt shrugs.

"You'll always be older than me, darling," he smirks.

Just for that, Blaine blows a loud raspberry on Kurt's stomach.

Kurt's manic giggling, and how he rolls over, efficiently shoving Blaine onto Cooper, is how they manage to wake the older brother up from the dead. Or sleepy.

"Kids," he grumbles, and crawls out of bed, curling up on the thick rug by Blaine's bed. Wes and David peak into Blaine's bedroom, after having slept in the living room-area of his _bachelor pad_, as Kurt had named it when he first saw it. They silently observe the three of them, before deciding to take advantage of Blaine's bathroom before there's any awake competition.

Eventually, everyone is downstairs, in various states of awake. Nick and Jeff had been among the first to wake up, and had started brewing coffee and pressing home made orange juice for breakfast. They'd even whipped together the biggest batch of pancake Blaine has ever seen, but it'll probably be gone within soon with almost 30 breakfast guests.

Cooper chases Nick and Jeff out of the kitchen when he finally appears, claiming he's the host's understudy, thus he should make breakfast. He looks green and seems surprisingly subdued, and Blaine thinks he's slightly embarrassed from last night. But he still insists on cooking.

Finn snags the first plate of pancakes, and he moans appreciatively as he digs in.

"Good, but not perfect. Try again, with more sound. Also, try not to look at anyone in particular," Cooper corrects him calmly.

"Huh?" Finn looks as confused as he sounds.

"Oh kids…" Cooper sighs. "I gave you all a free acting class yesterday. And now I want to hear what you learned from it."

And that's how everyone has to faking it to make it in the breakfast queue. Apparently, Cooper is shameless. And so are most of Blaine's friends.

Blaine expects Kurt to shy away from the challenge. But instead, he gives them a performance Meg Ryan would envy. He's flushed recklessly, wildly against the wall, one fist clutching his hair, the other knocking repeatedly, hard on the wall. His eyes are closed, his pelvis is bucking, thrusting really, and the sounds he's making are obscene, and Blaine can do nothing but imagine himself on knees in front of Kurt Hummel. His hands are fizzing with the phantom feeling of touching Kurt's clothed ass when they danced last night. Just as Kurt is about to reach the crescendo of his performance, his eyes fly open, and he stares right at Blaine, mouth shaped in a soundless ooh… He slowly slumps down on the floor, leaning heavily against the wall, chest heaving dramatically for air, and he giggles cutely.

"What have you done to him?" Santana says accusingly to Blaine, but she looks proudly at Kurt. Smug, really.

Finn looks mortified beyond belief, and hurries out of the room. Nick offers Kurt a high five, Puck says something Blaine can't hear, but it makes Kurt blush. Thomas looks from Kurt to Blaine to Kurt again, and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Cooper applauds Kurt, says something about pointing as he reaches climax, and hands him a plate with pancakes and strawberries. Nobody else gets strawberries.

Kurt walks shyly over to the dining table, taking the chair next to Blaine. Blaine needs to sit down for a while longer, Blaine most certainly does not want to get up right now. So he clears his voice, and nicks one of Kurt's strawberries. He has to say something. Kurt's shy smile is already faltering, and he's building up walls quicker than a team of a dozen construction workers hired on incentive payment. Blaine's boyfriend is hot, bold, sexy and playful, and despite their limited explorations, he is remarkably successful at triggering Blaine's buttons.

Blaine leans in to whisper in his ear.

"You always zig when I think you're about to zag and I… I just adore that about you. You're…" Blaine takes a moment to find the right word, and Kurt looks at him, eyes wide in wonder.

"Yeah?"

"You're spectacular," Blaine finally decides, and plants a chaste kiss to Kurt's cheek. It takes a lot of willpower not to straddle him and kiss him thoroughly, guests be darned. Blaine is not a horndog. But he has a tempting boyfriend!

Kurt looks at him closely, and he must find something in Blaine's eyes he likes. He sits up straighter, and Blaine can see him preening. He scoots closer, and rests a hand on Blaine's thigh as he eats his breakfast. Blaine has to concentrate on breathing calmly for a minute or five.

* * *

The guests leave fairly soon after breakfast and half-heartedly tidying some of the mess. Ella arrives around the same time, hugs Blaine and asks if the party was a success. He nods into her shoulder.

"You shouldn't be here on your day off."

"Nonsense. It's your birthday, and I'm happy to clean up after you."

"You're a weird woman," Blaine giggles.

"Yes, but the rule I gave Cooper a decade ago still goes. I don't do puke outside flue season."

The two brothers, Kurt, and Ella spend the next hours cleaning up after the party. Kurt rolls his eyes at Blaine, who spends at least 20 minutes playing with the balloons, before popping and throwing them away.

"It's my birthday!" Blaine objects when he catches Kurt's pointed stare.

"Technically, it isn't until tomorrow."

"I am rrroyal. I am celebrrrrating for at least thrrrree days," Blaine says, putting on a haughty British accent and rolling his R's.

Kurt finds Blaine's tiara floating in the sink basin with the now melted ice, and promptly puts it on Blaine's head.

"Your Highness," he says with a flourish, bowing deeply.

"**High-**ness? That's stretching it, don't you think?" Cooper giggles as he passes them on his way out with two big bags of trash.

Blaine kicks at him, but misses.

"Stupid short legs…" he mutters.

Firm arms wrap around him from behind, and Kurt rests his chin on Blaine's shoulder.

"I like your legs," Kurt whispers hot against his ear. "I like everything about you. If you had your brother's frame, I couldn't do this," he murmurs, pulling Blaine flushed against himself. "Now gather your gifts so nobody accidentally throws it away or your dad sees the condoms."

"Shit," Blaine hisses, "I do not need that to happen," he says, and runs off.

When Mr. Anderson comes home, his house looks spotless, and if he didn't already knew about the party, he'd never been able to see the traces of it. Except for the leftover food in the fridge, of course, from which Ella makes a chicken casserole. Kurt had offered his help, but she had waved him off with a smile.

"Go put a smile on our boy. He hasn't had much to smile from lately, and I love to see him this happy," she said.

Kurt promises himself to sit down with Ella one day, and trick stories out of her.

Dinner is pleasant. It's not the stiff and posh Sunday meal Kurt might have suspected, but is fairly laidback and easy. Blaine talks animatedly about the party, with PG-rated censorship, and thanking his dad profusely for allowing it. Nobody comments on a slightly paler than usual Cooper, who's been downing water, coffee and Advil the entire day. Mr. Anderson is listening carefully to his son's happy recounting.

"So all of your friends from Lima came for Blaine?" he asks Kurt when Blaine has to catch his breath. Kurt swallows his food and takes a sip of his water before he answers.

"Yes. It turns out that if you date me, you get a dozen crazy friends as part of the package." It earns him a round of hearty laughter.

The rest of the day is calm and equally easy. Mr. Anderson withdraws to his study for a few hours, but Blaine doesn't look disappointed by it. The three younger men decide to enjoy themselves in the Jacuzzi. Or, Cooper suggests it, Blaine acquiesces eagerly, and manages to coax Kurt into it.

Later in the evening, all four of them eat cake in front of the TV, and Blaine gets to pick the movie.

When it's time for bed, Devon Anderson looks pointedly at them, so Blaine kisses Kurt goodnight in front of the guestroom Ella had prepared again.

* * *

Kurt sets his phone to wake him early, because he has plans. He almost regrets it when the alarm rips him out of a really romantic dream, but real life romance will always be better.

In the kitchen, he finds father and son. Cooper is pacing, waiting for a cab that'll take him to the airport, and Mr. Anderson is finishing his coffee while updating himself on something on his tablet, before leaving for office.

"You're up early," he comments, taking in Kurt fresh from the shower, in Dalton slacks, white shirt and tie.

"I'm making Blaine breakfast in bed," Kurt shrugs, as if it's obvious.

"Huh."

"It's not an Anderson tradition?"

"No, our schedules have rarely lined up. And the last two years he's been at Dalton, so…"

"Do you… Is it okay if I do?"

Devon looks at him silently for a while.

"You make him happy. How can I object to that?"

"That's why Kurt slept in the guest room?" Cooper mumbles slyly.

"What was that, Son?" Devon looks pointedly at him.

"Nothing," the older brother singsongs.

They both leave, and Kurt finishes preparing breakfast. He knows from experience that Blaine eats a heavy breakfast to keep his concentration and energy up until lunch. So Kurt makes them a chicken-, walnut and avocado sandwich, Blaine's twice as big as Kurt's. Because it's his birthday, he also gets cake.

He loads a tray with their plates, two big mugs and an entire kettle of coffee, and walks carefully up the stairs. He sends a grateful thought to his yoga sessions and Coach Sylvester while he tries to open the door to Blaine's bedroom with his elbow, while maintaining the tray levelled.

Blaine is sleeping, starfished tummy down on his bed, and he doesn't stir even when Kurt places the tray on his bedside table. He lights a single candle, before sitting down on the mattress. He runs his fingers through Blaine's hair. He doesn't get to do that so often, with the way Blaine gels it down. It curls around his fingers when he lets go of it.

His boyfriend shifts, and Kurt's hand falls down to his neck.

"Good morning," Kurt smiles. "Happy birthday, Blaine!"

Blaine turns around to his side, blinks repeatedly before his eyes focuses on him.

"Hey," he murmurs, a smile growing quickly across his face. "What are you doing?"

"Breakfast in bed," Kurt says simply.

"You've made me breakfast?" Blaine asks, still sounding dazed and not completely awake.

"Of course."

Blaine lifts the covers and pats the space next to him.

"Come here, then."

So Kurt climbs into bed, gets settled, and lifts the tray over to their laps without jostling anything. They eat in silence, but the smiles and looks Blaine gives him speak volumes.

When they are done, Blaine moves the tray to the floor, and attacks Kurt's lips. Kurt falls back on the pillows, and Blaine dives in after him, searching his mouth as if he wants to taste the last traces of coffee and cake on Kurt.

"Best birthday ever," he sighs, arms wrapped around Kurt.

"Why do I get the impression your family doesn't have a lot of birthday traditions?"

Blaine takes his time before he answers.

"I guess we grew out of it? I used to have tons of cool parties when I was a kid, and Mom loved planning them. She was amazing like that, and I had theme parties and adventures, and everything. But then…" He swallows heavily, and Kurt regrets asking. They shouldn't be talking about Blaine's absent mother on his birthday, and Kurt should have realized she was part of the answer.

"You don't have to explain," Kurt rushes, tightening his hold of Blaine.

"I want you to know," Blaine murmurs. "The first birthday after she left was when I turned 14, and I think maybe Dad forgot it? Or maybe he couldn't deal with it, didn't know what to do. I remember he was away, Cooper was in LA, and Ella had just been hired. She learned it was my birthday when she found me crying in my room. I missed my mom, and everything was just painful…"

Kurt holds him close, resting an ankle over Blaine's.

"We made lasagne and cupcakes together, and ate them in front of the TV while we watched _300_ and _Hairspray_. I don't know if she told Dad, but two days later I got a birthday card in the mail with a grand from him."

"Blaine, that's…"

"It's okay," Blaine interrupts, looking at his boyfriend. "I don't need pity. It's done, it's in the past, and I know the divorce was difficult for Dad."

"Still, you're his son."

"And he made up for it the next year. He flew Cooper in, and we had dinner at a really posh restaurant, and I got some lavish gifts. I had just begun high school, and Dad invited everyone in my class to a place he rented where we could eat pizza and go bowling all evening."

"It seems nice."

"It was. It was perfect, really, because school had just started after the summer, so it was good timing. I got to know a lot of my classmates quicker."

"Then came your sweet sixteen?"

"Yes. By then I was out in school. I was… Tolerated, even liked by some. But I didn't really have any close friends, and felt alienated in my class. I told my dad I felt too old for a birthday party. So he hosted a big family dinner, with aunts, uncles, cousins and whatnots."

"How was that?"

"Weird. You have to remember I still thought my dad had an issue with me being gay, and I had heard some of my older relatives say some not-so-tolerant things, and I felt like I had to prove my worth, play the part perfectly. It was exhausting."

"Oh Blaine," Kurt whimpers, and kisses him eagerly, as if it can erase the bad memories and apologize for any unfair treatment.

"It's better now, I promise," Blaine murmurs into his lips. "And it seems as if Dad could tell, because he's never tried to do anything like that ever again." And then they get lost to kissing for a while.

"17…" Kurt hums.

"17? Oh, yes, 17," Blaine splutters, leaning far enough away so he can't reach Kurt's lips. "I had just transferred to Dalton, I didn't really know anyone yet, and it felt awkward to announce your own birthday merely days after I came there. Dad was working a lot; he had to catch up with everything after he took care of me and my injuries that year. Both Cooper and he called me, and Ella sent me a care-package with cookies and a year long subscription for _Vogue_."

"Didn't you get a gift from your Dad?" Kurt exclaims.

"He's always transferred money to my account, so I can buy something I like. He doesn't know what to get me, so…" Blaine shrugs.

Kurt remembers how they went shopping after Christmas to spend money Blaine had gotten.

"How about last year?" he asks instead.

"Last year was amazing. The Warblers and I went out to an Indian restaurant, and had a blast until we were kicked out for being noisy. Then we ordered dessert for 15 boys at a drive-through. I think we bought at least 30 sundaes, 10 milkshakes and 20 cookies."

"And how did you take advantage of that sugar rush?" Kurt asks dryly, one eyebrow raised in appalled amusement.

"We drove back to the dorms and played tag," Blaine giggles.

"Of course you did," Kurt says fondly. "I want to give you your birthday gift now."

Blaine squeals and makes kicky-feet.

"Man child," Kurt scolds, but rolls over to find the gift in his satchel, which he never moved to the guest room last night. He hands Blaine the square box in metallic midnight blue paper and a big silver ribbon.

Blaine rips the paper off violently, and lifts off the lid. He sucks in his breath, biting his lip.

"Kurt! It's beautiful!"

"I know it's kind of silly, and you probably never want to use it, but you are constantly on the risk of dropping your tie into soup or coffee or custard, and…"

Blaine swiftly interrupts Kurt's ramblings with a sweet kiss.

"It's beautiful. Thank you," he says sincerely. He traces the outline of the piece of jewellery carefully with his middle finger.

"I could get you something else if you want to."

"Kurt," Blaine laughs, snapping the box away from Kurt when he tries to take it. "This is perfect. You have given it a lot of thought, it comes from your heart, and it is gorgeous. Thank you. Seriously. Thank you. I'll wear it so, so often."

Blaine leans in, and kisses him thoroughly.

While Blaine showers and gets ready, Kurt waits downstairs, reading in a chemistry book he should have paid attention during the weekend. Seeing as Cooper drove Blaine to Columbus, they'll take Kurt's car back to Dalton. Not that either objects to the extra thirty minutes together.

When Blaine comes down the stairs, Kurt leaps up to meet him, coffee in two travel mugs ready to go. He hands one to his boyfriend, while silently cursing him for looking so stupidly gorgeous in the Dalton blazer.

One of the first things he notices is his birthday gift. He touches the tie clip, his finger tip swirling along the treble clef.

"It reminds me of your eyes," Kurt murmurs, looking at the tiny amber stone on the bottom of the treble clef. "And it kind of matches the bracelet you gave me for my birthday," he wriggles his left wrist.

"I saw the engraving," Blaine murmurs back. _Courage_. Because that has become their shared motto. And music will always be a reminder of how they met.

"Ready for school?"

Blaine takes Kurt's hand in his, and kisses the fingers.

"I am."


	7. Being A Warbler

When Kurt and Blaine arrive at Dalton, they walk straight for the bulletin board in the main building, where the results from the Warbler auditions are announced. A large group of boys are already clustering the foyer. Blaine and Kurt are holding hands calmly. They've talked this through. If only one of them is accepted, they won't let it change anything between them. Some of the boys are wishing Blaine a happy birthday, and he smiles automatically, distractedly at them.

Blaine is silently thinking about withdrawing from the Warblers, if the crazy thing should happen that they accept him and not Kurt. He doesn't want to spend more time than necessary away from his boyfriend, and singing won't be as fun when he knows Kurt is spending every rehearsal in his room, without doubt jealous and longing. He wishes he could imagine a scenario where Kurt is accepted, and he isn't, but he fears his friends in the Council don't have the balls to reject him, even though Kurt obviously is a more exciting voice and has the uniqueness they need to get a head start in the upcoming competitions. Anyone can be a charming lead singer, Blaine reasons.

Kurt is silently thinking about what kind of hissy fits, temper tantrums and diva storm outs he can conjure if the member list doesn't show both of their names. He's not sure what kind of scenario he imagines most likely. But he knows how popular Blaine is, he knows how respected and admired he is for the efforts he pulls as their lead singer. The voice, stage presence, solidness and charisma he brings to the table aren't easy to replace. Kurt hasn't been a member of the Warblers for much more than a semester, and even though he felt confident before their audition, he knows there are students with far superior seniority – both as members of the show choir and as members of the waiting list. It doesn't matter that Kurt thinks his voice is spectacular, if the Council decides to be gentlemen.

Most of the boys have already read the list, and part way like the Red Sea did for Moses, giving the boyfriends a clear path straight to the list. Kurt thinks Blaine is so respected that the boys would have moved even if they hadn't read the list yet. It's kind of ridiculous, how much power Blaine could have in certain social circles of this school, if he was aware of it. Fortunately, Blaine is an unconsciously healthy influence.

They stop in front of the list, and Kurt quickly skims a nonsensical, unimportant paragraph from the Council about the merits of the auditions and how grateful they are for talent in abundance, and for those who didn't make the final cut to not give up and try again next year. Kurt swallows heavily, because he doesn't have a next year. He's a Senior, and he'd very much like to spend it doing things he loves with people he… cares a great deal about. He's not used to this from McKinley. If you wanted to be a part of the sub par underdog-team, you were a shoe-in.

Absentmindedly, Blaine drops his hand to wrap his arm around Kurt's waist, and pulls him tight against him. Kurt slings his arm around Blaine as well, closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and mentally gets ready to read the list of 14 names.

_Blaine D. Anderson_

Blaine tightens his hold for a brief second, before letting go, folding his hands in front of his face. His eyes are beaming, glittering, revealing the true happiness and relief he's feeling. Kurt squishes him in a warm hug.

"I'm so proud of you, you deserve this," he whispers in his ears, as boys are cheering for Blaine behind their backs.

"We… We have to check that you're in too," Blaine coughs. He pushes Kurt in front of him, and wraps his arms around him, hands resting on his stomach. He's leaning his head against Kurt, and Kurt can feel his chin poking him far up on his shoulder. He places his own hands on top of Blaine's, and briefly wonders if the list is written alphabetically or if its ranged from lead singer to janitor.

_Robin Baycliff_

_Raymond Charleston_

_John Dempsey_

_Nicholas Duval_

For goodness sake, why does it have to be so many members with last names from the first letters of the alphabet? Kurt tries to read the list as quickly as he can, but he's afraid of missing something important, and he wants to make sure that his friends are in. Like Nick. And truth be told, he's scared of discovering his name isn't on the list.

_Thaddeus Harwood_

_Kurt E. Hummel_

_Thomas Kennedy-Fogelman_

Wait, wait, wait, what was that? He reads the line again, and sags in relief into Blaine's arms.

"You're amazing," he whispers, and Kurt turns in his arms, hugging his boyfriend for real. The boys around them offer their congratulations, and seem honestly happy for them, even though not all of them can have gone through. But that's how it works at Dalton. You are happy for your next kin and any resentment are saved for a moment alone in the shower or while running in the park.

"Let's read the rest of the list," Blaine suggests, as if he too is thinking about friends that may not be Warblers this year.

_Bryan McArthur_

_Wesley Montgomery_

_Trent Nixon_

_Jeffrey S. Sterling_

_David Thompson_

_Flint Wilson_

But there they are, all of their friends. Wes, David and Thad were of course expected, as it is customary that last year's council members are guaranteed a position if they want it. But it's nice to see it confirmed, and it's even better to see that some of their best friends made it this year too. There are a few new names, Blaine is mumbling into Kurt's neck something about how he can't wait to find out how they'll sound together this year, and what kind of energy the newbies will contribute with.

"I feel like we should be celebrating," Kurt muses, still high on the discovery. He's interrupted by the second bell telling them to go to class.

"We have calculus now. But I'll buy you a cookie for lunch," Blaine offers regretfully.

Kurt nods, and Blaine takes his hand, leading the way to their classroom. Kurt is grateful for his human guide dog, so he can text his Dad and his friends in New Directions instantly with the good news.

* * *

As promised, Blaine hands him a cookie on a coffee plate when he sits down next to him.

"Congratulations, Kurt Warbler," he beams, and gently plants a quick, brief kiss to his surprised lips still shaped in a soundless O.

"Kurt Warbler..?"

"Yes. You're a Warbler for sure now," Blaine beams.

Kurt splits the cookie in two and gives him the biggest half.

"_We_ are Warblers," he enunciates.

* * *

Most of Monday's rehearsal is spent getting to know each other as a group, both personally and vocally, and the Council knows a surprisingly large amount of easy games that within soon has the 14 boys laughing together as they perform various challenges: Trying to sound like a car with a broken muffler, a fox in heat, an abandoned ghost house, or a butterfly in a tornado.

Close to end, David tells them to please sit down, and the Council gets positioned by their usual table.

"Warblers, as per tradition, Warbler Weekend is ahead of us to kick-start the semester and begin preparations for Sectionals," Wes announces, and the newest members of the Warblers cheer loudly, until they realize that kind of behaviour is frowned upon within the Warblers' space. Wes gives them a stern look before he continues.

"Please remember that you have been excused from your classes on Monday to be able to participate the entire weekend. This means that any papers, assignments and other obligations you'd normally hand in by the beginning of the week must be completed before this weekend. A Dalton alumnus has graciously offered us a nice deal on one of his hotels in Columbus, so we'll be staying there from Friday to Monday. Please check your emails and the info packages Thad is handing out for details," Wes says calmly, and 11 boys are looking expectantly at said Council member.

"We will also be electing a new council this weekend, so we encourage you to think about nominees for the candidatures," Wes promptly encourages, before dismissing them. His gavel is drowned out by the sound of eager teenage ruckus, as they frantically leaf through the folders Thad is handing out, to learn as much as possible as quickly as possible about the upcoming adventure.

"Do we need our parents' signatures for permission?" Kurt asks Blaine as they leave the room. "And I can't find any information about payments," he frowns, trying to estimate what three nights in a hotel might cost. This seems like a far cry from the weather-beaten cabin they stayed at after Christmas. Hopefully, no loose doors will concuss Blaine this time around.

"Tuition covers this," Blaine waves it off. "Parents sign a general acceptance of any official school activities when we are enrolled by the beginning of each school year, because not everyone lives nearby, or they have parents who travel a lot. School groups like the Warblers are considered both official and mandatory," Blaine explains calmly. "Besides, you're 18, you're allowed to do whatever you want now," he teases, bumping his hip against Kurt's.

"Ah, so much freedom, and how I've wasted several months not seizing it," Kurt sighs dreamily, and winks at Blaine. "So, today you are officially not 18. Any highlights from your last year you'd recommend a younger boy like me?"

"Well, just a few months after I was 18, I met the worst spy ever, and I took a liking to him, so I befriended him, and after too long I mustered enough courage to kiss him," he says cheekily.

"Huh," Kurt says, stopping in front of Blaine's door as he searches his bag for his key. "I think I'd like to do that," he smirks, and as Blaine looks up from his key hunting, Kurt grabs his face with both hands, and kisses him.

"God yes," Blaine moans, leaning heavily against his door, "let's never stop doing this, just because we're getting older."

"Shut up," Kurt laughs, and kisses him again.

Blaine tries doing something with his foot around Kurt's ankle, but he loses balances and almost falls over. His elbow hits the door handle, the door opens, and then there's no almost to it; they both fall to the floor, into Blaine's room.

"You forgot to lock your door again?" Kurt grumbles disbelievingly. "I bet your keys are still on your desk, you stupid boy," he says, and climbs up. When he checks, he's right. The keys are where he predicted.

"I hurt my head. You should kiss it better," Blaine pouts from his position still horizontally on the floor.

"No," Kurt objects. "I have home work. I have to study the schedule for the upcoming weekend so I can plan my wardrobe. And I promised to call Rachel so she could walk me through a debriefing of my audition, now that we know how it went. And I have to call Dad to explain why I'm not coming home this weekend either."

"Okay," Blaine says patiently, and literally jumps up from the floor. "But could you come by later? Ella convinced me to bring the last slices of your cake. It's technically still my birthday," he says hesitantly.

Kurt instantly feels guilty for being so busy, and crosses the few feet of distance between them to take Blaine's hands in his.

"Of course. I'm sorry I'm being selfish. The Warbler Weekend announcement just threw me slightly off kilter."

"It's okay," Blaine murmurs, squeezing his hands back. "It's early in the semester, and you still have a lot of new things to get used to, and settling in to do."

"But you're my boyfriend, and that makes you important, a priority," Kurt reassures him. "Give me two hours, and I'll be back. How does that sound?"

Blaine smiles, kisses him, and shoos him out.

* * *

One hour and fifty five minutes later, Kurt knocks on Blaine's door, and waits patiently for him to open. Most of the boys at Dalton would walk in after knocking, shame on you if the door is unlocked and you wanted privacy. Some of the teenagers wouldn't even knock, but simply burst in. But Blaine is a true gentleman, so Kurt extends the same courtesy to him. Besides, he still enjoys almost too much seeing the pure joy in Blaine's eyes as they light up whenever he opens the door and sees him. It makes him feel cherished and chosen, and so very, very welcome.

"Hi, come in, you look great," Blaine gushes, leading him in by both his hands. Kurt double checks what he's wearing, but it isn't something very fashionable. He wanted to dress nicely for his boyfriend, but he's tired, and mostly in pyjama mood, so he'd made a compromise with himself to wear jeans and a loose - but still form fitting - boat neck sweater. Blaine hasn't changed out of uniform, but his blazer and tie is off, his shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and he's unbuttoned two of the top buttons. It's a stark contrast to his usually well put together Dalton appearance, and Kurt approves. This looks like a boyfriend he can cuddle with, without worrying about wrinkles and decorum.

"Pardon?" he asks, realizing Blaine has been talking while Kurt was staring at the very nice and very bare arms guiding him towards bed.

"What's with the clothes?" Blaine laughs.

"Oh, well, one of the bullet points on my Pro McKinley List was fashion and clothes, so I've decided to get out of the uniform whenever I can, to exercise my human right to wear whatever I want and worship fashion."

"Good," Blaine all but growls. "The uniform can make many a teenage boy look handsome, and you rock it so well. But damn Kurt, _nobody_ can pull this off the way you can."

"So you approve?" Kurt asks, still not sure if that was a compliment.

"I very much approve," Blaine murmurs, resting a hand just where Kurt's neck meets his shoulder, and his naked skin is frizzing with electricity from Blaine's touch.

"Good," Kurt sighs, swallowing repeatedly to gain some control. "Not that you dictate what I wear. But it's nice to be appreciated," he says more calmly.

Blaine smiles and kisses him.

"Can we have cake now?"

"Should you have that much sugar this close to bedtime?" Kurt raises an eyebrow challengingly. "Oh never mind," he relents by his own volition, "you'd only eat it after I've left for curfew. This way, maybe it'll wear off and you can get some sleep."

"Kurt, don't you know sugar loves me?" Blaine giggles. "I can have as much as I want, and it doesn't affect my energy level at all."

"Wow," Kurt says dryly. "I don't know why I didn't realize until now that your endless jumping and hyper playfulness come from a constant sugar high. You need your fix, don't you?"

"I'm so glad you've come to accept me for who I am," Blaine teases, and tugs at Kurt's hand to get him to sit down on the bed with him. He has a Tupperware box with slices of both the red velvet and the chocolate cake, and two spoons from the dorm kitchen.

They talk easily and enjoy the cake for a long while, eating slowly as they both have so much to tell and discuss with the other.

"… at least I think that's what Rory was trying to say… Blaine, are you even listening?"

Blaine shakes his head.

"Sorry, you're distracting me."

"How on earth can I be distracting you?"

"Frosting," Blaine mumbles, and leans in to kiss Kurt by the corner of his mouth. His tongue peaks out and licks flutteringly light over his skin. Kurt gasps, and Blaine takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. The kiss is splendid; the firework-kind of kiss, with the added scent and flavour of rich chocolate. A few adjustments would make it heavenly, though, so Kurt administrates. Without pausing the kiss, he blindly moves the cake away from between them, tugs at Blaine's shirt, and easily makes the boy follow as he leans back to lay down on Blaine's pillows.

It's far from the first time they've ended up making out like this, with one of top of the other, solidly and safe, hands roaming above the belt, trading sweet kisses or creating hickeys that dictate their fashion choices for a time. Right now, Blaine is kissing, licking and sucking at Kurt's exposed collar bone, and one hand is roaming over the skin on Kurt's ticklish side, alternating between heart-stuttering caresses and bruise-potential firm grips. Kurt has planted one foot on the mattress, knee bent, and his hands have without asking found their way to Blaine's back under his shirt. His fingers are mapping out the topography that is Blaine, with dips and curves, spine and muscles, skin and flesh. It's all so, so good, and Kurt must have said something along those lines, because Blaine is murmuring a litany of praise against his skin.

Kurt thinks about Blaine's hands in his back pockets while they danced on Saturday, and how intrinsically erotic it had felt. Warm, firm hands cupping his butt, pulling him that much closer, and Kurt had wanted to drown in the feeling, he'd wanted to be even closer in the hope that it would let him experience even more of that all-consuming, glorious feeling. Their bodies had moved flushed together to the music, Kurt clutching for his dear life to Blaine. He didn't know what to do, just that he wanted more, but he didn't know of what. And when his body had reacted in literal excitement, Blaine had pulled away, putting some distance between them, and wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist instead of touching his butt. Kurt had felt both disappointed and relieved. He didn't know what the next step could be, but he knew Blaine would have to take it.

It's just that it doesn't seem as if Blaine will be taking that step anytime soon. Kurt feels ready for more, but Blaine will have to push him a little. Kurt doesn't know what to do, when to do it and how to do it. He doesn't know what he wants, just more, but he knows he has limits. They are blurry, because he doesn't know his options. If Blaine would just push him a little, he'd be happy to join the ride for a while. Kurt's a quick learner, he's sure he will excellently copying Blaine's moves. And usually he's great at improvisation, but there are too much uncharted territory, too many unknown limits and boundaries for them both to dare doing this. It would be like trying to improvise an entire musical over the sentence "wherefore art thou Romeo?" without having ever heard about the Bard.

Kurt isn't stupid. He has some knowledge, he's tried watching those movies, they had sex education last year at Dalton, and right after his dad met Carole he'd sat him down for a very awkward sex talk, propelled by Finn's near-pregnancy-scare. Carole had convinced Burt that every teenager needs knowledge, and even though Kurt wouldn't knock someone up, he would still deserve a healthy and safe sex life. Kurt still blushes at the thought of that particular information. So he read the pamphlets from the health clinic, and he knows the theory behind… the mechanics. But he thinks there are several steps the bullet point lists and illustrations skipped. You don't go from kissing to anal sex, do you? What happens in between?

He feels humiliated and vulnerable when he thinks about how little he knows and how little he can do. They've been in a relationship for four months, for goodness sake, and knew each other for more than six months before that. Anyone would have put out by now on a similar timeline. But Blaine is too much of a gentleman to ever ask or push, and Kurt isn't exactly Mr. Seducer either. So this is what they have, this is apparently what they'll do until Blaine gets so frustrated he breaks up with Kurt. Because despite of what Nick says about Blaine, Blaine is still just a boy, and boys have hormones and urges. Kurt's seen the boys - and some of the girls - at McKinley play musical sex-chairs, and even Dalton boys have their rowdy less-than-dapper moments. Kurt will just have to enjoy this relationship for as long as it lasts.

Until then, he moves his head further to the side so Blaine can continue his delicious attack on Kurt's shoulder and neck, because he knows how to let him do that, and he's comfortable having that happen. He actually enjoys it a lot, as long as the hickeys can be covered by his shirt collar. He reels at the sensations when he stands in front of the mirror, tracing the sensitive and coloured skin with a finger tip, thinking about Blaine, remembering it happening, knowing he was that much desired.

Blaine moves to kiss him on the lips, and Kurt runs his fingers down along Blaine's back, scratching carefully with his nails as a shiver runs through Blaine. They had accidentally discovered that Blaine enjoys that now and then, so Kurt does it in some bold moments. Initially, it had felt wrong to do something that could be painful, but Blaine's reactions indicated quite the opposite; pleasure and enjoyment, so Kurt had learned to trust that Blaine wanted that, and he wasn't doing anything wrong.

Despite of the long summer, they didn't have all that many possibilities to explore likes and dislikes. Busy schedules and unannounced parental returns made sure they kept their adventures mostly fully clothed. But they have by now mastered the art of kissing, and all the delicious things two mouths can do together. They've discovered a few interesting areas on the other's body. They've become champions of cuddling. And Kurt doesn't any longer tense or startle if Blaine reaches out to touch him unannounced. He's also outgrown most of his hesitance to initiate cuddling or kissing.

That's in the privacy of the two of them, or sometimes among friends, though. Blaine's issues with being noticed as gay in the public, a post-Sadie Hawkins reaction, haven't vanished. Kurt's fine with that, he doesn't feel the need to hold hands in the mall of Lima or provoke unnecessarily, and constantly making out in front of their friends are tacky. Besides, during the summer they discovered and cultivated other means to share affection and care. Blaine has really expressive eyes, for instance, speaking an entire language on their own. The way his torso often turns towards Kurt when they walk side by side, as if he doesn't want to miss a word he says. The way he waits patiently in a thrift store while Kurt rummages racks and racks of clothes for hidden treasures. The way he abandons the sun he loves, to sit next to Kurt in the shadow, even though neither has anything important to talk about. The way he sends him flirty texts while they are in the park with their friends. The way he always remembers to bring tissues when they go to the movies, even though Kurt insists he won't cry this time around.

Kurt likes to think he has developed gestures and private moments he can use to show Blaine how much he means to him too. Blaine once confessed that Kurt's smiles made his heart stutter. Kurt's noticed how Blaine grins fondly at him when he laughs full heartedly, teeth showing, nose crinkled and all, so he tries to give in and not restrict himself worrying about wrinkles and less than perfect teeth. He's taught Blaine to sign "boyfriend", or the closest he knows, and it's become a sign they quickly and easily can tell the other across distance, a reassurance and reminder of who they are and what they have. Kurt learned to perfect Blaine's coffee order, with the right amount of cinnamon sprinkling on his medium drip. He bought him ice cream during his break at Six Flags, even though it was a Wednesday. He started reading some of the superhero comics Blaine talked about, so he could participate in the conversation, and he owed it to Sam for helping him clear up some confusing things.

All in all, they managed through summer, rearranging norms within the stifling limitations Ohio provides. The problem is being back to Dalton, with it's no bullying-policy, with the extended tolerance, with the dorm rooms, and the endless possibilities to be an open, carefree and proud couple, acting like most teenagers do. Nick and Jeff have no problems acting like themselves, just like the other boys do when their girlfriends come over. But to Kurt it's all too much. So when they're among their classmates and friends, Blaine and Kurt don't act much differently from when they were friends, and that's still far from how they limit themselves in public. Because Blaine is an affectionate and tactile boy, so Kurt has learned to expect and accept how he's all touchy-feely and cuddly with him. That's still galaxies from being okay with having sex. But there must be something Kurt could give, that comes between cuddling and sex? And if he felt confident about that answer, he wouldn't need Blaine to push him in the right direction.


	8. Trouble In Paradise

**I know, I know, I'm ridiculously late with this update, and it's not even a long chapter - but the content should be rich, and I'm really excited about this, so hey, look out for foreshadowing and new subplots, and a surprise :D **

**October has been a really busy month for me, with a lot of hard work needed to move towards some of the bigger goals in my life, so fanfiction had to take the backseat for a while, but things should be somewhat calmer for some time now. Thank you so much for never giving up on me, though!**

**I want to remain spoiler free for season 5, as I haven't seen anything yet, so please no talking about that.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or anything you might recognize.**

* * *

"Jesus, your brother was wasted at your birthday party," Jeff giggles, pointing at a picture on Blaine's TV-screen. They've connected the laptop to the TV, so they all can watch the pictures together.

"Please don't remind me," Blaine groans, hiding his face in Kurt's neck. He's sitting with his legs across Kurt's lap, curled up in his arms. He knows he's clingy, but he just needs the closeness today, and Kurt is obviously happy to indulge him.

"You're not the one who tried to give us _intimate scenes_-lessons," Nick laughs, scrolling to the next picture with the remote control.

"Are you saying you didn't learn anything?" Wes wiggles his eyebrows at Nick.

"Let me paraphrase Mr. Puck. My man never needs to fake it," he says with sass and a wink.

"So true," Jeff agrees.

"I don't remember this," David interrupts, pointing at a picture of a naked ass in the hot tub.

Nick and Jeff lean forward from their position on the floor, squinting their eyes.

"I've seen better," Jeff hums, elbowing his boyfriend, who curiously clicks to the next picture.

"Oh, look at that, Cooper's front," Nick comments easily.

"From what we've seen, Cooper and Blaine don't look much alike. Are there any sibling resemblance under the clothes?" David asks cheekily, looking at Kurt.

Kurt blushes, ducking his head to bury his face in Blaine's hair. He groans loudly.

"I'm disturbed by the interest you're showing my genitals," Blaine says calmly, running a hand soothingly along Kurt's arm.

"Rachel has two dads. I'm sure she'd be understanding of your bicuriousity," Kurt teases, and Blaine grins against the soft skin on Kurt's neck.

Wes mumbles something unintelligible, David wraps an arm around his shoulders, and Nick scrolls further through the pictures. Blaine can see them later, so most of his attention is directed towards his boyfriend. Blaine's tired from not enough sleep after spending too many hours with student council papers last night, and this has just been one of those days. He'd wanted a calm evening with his boyfriend, cuddling in a quiet room, relaxing with a movie they've seen several times before, and not do much more than that. But then Nick had brought his compact camera for dinner, telling him he had a bunch of pictures from the birthday party, and offering to transfer them to his computer. David and Wes had some on their phones, and soon it became a picture viewing-party. Blaine loves hanging out with his friends, but tonight he has a headache which isn't that enthusiastic about the company and amount of noise in his room. He'd washed out the gel of his hair, as that usually helped against his headache, and Kurt is running his fingers through his moist curls. It's really soothingly, almost making him falling asleep.

He startles at the sound of loud cooing, and looks up on his TV. It's a picture of Kurt and Blaine slowdancing, with Kurt's arms on his shoulders, and Blaine's wrapped around Kurt's waist. Kurt's head is tilted, and they are looking at each other with so much emotion in their eyes. The picture has really captured a moment, and Blaine can't help but smile at it. That's a keeper, and is so going up on his wall. Or maybe in a frame on his nightstand.

The next picture is a close-up of Blaine's birthday cake, with all the candles.

"That cake was delicious!" Jeff moans, almost slobbering. "Blaine, when you move in with Kurt, you're going to get so fat!"

"Excuse me?" Kurt objects scandalized, and Blaine is trembling from suppressed laughter in his arms. "I've been dictating the menu at home for years. How do you think I look?"

"Hot," Jeff answers just as Nick exclaims "sexy!"

"Fuckable," David shrugs, and everyone looks at him. "I'm not blind; he does!"

"Oh my God, I was fishing for thin or slender or fit or something," Kurt growls, and Jeff and Nick give David a lecture in passing.

"You do look amazing, though," Blaine murmurs against his skin and kisses his jaw. Kurt scoots down to be more on level with him, and blushes delicately. Blaine cups his cheek, and leans in for a sweet kiss. Kurt meets it, and his lips press firmly, intently against his lips. They usually aren't the one to put their relationship on display, but in the safety with their closest friends, it's okay to let go and be more open.

"Kurt?" Wes asks, and there's some kind of warning in his voice. Kurt instantly pulls away, and Blaine wants to reassure him that Wes is simply being a dick, and also tell Wes off for being a dick, all at the same time. "Why are there 19 candles on the cake?"

Kurt looks confused at Blaine, and Blaine chuckles – only a neurotic Ordnung muss sein-boy like Wes would count the candles in a picture.

"Because it was his 19th birthday, obviously."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Kurt snorts, and leans his head against Blaine's. It feels nice.

"Are _you_ sure?" Wes asks, pointing accusingly at Blaine, and oh God, has he taken pointers from Cooper?

Blaine sighs, and extricates himself from the very pleasant and comfortable position with Kurt, and shuffles over to his desk, where his satchel is. He finds the wallet, picks out his driver's license, and flips it over to the guys, before crawling back in bed. Nick and Jeff jump out of the bed to watch the tiny card with David and Wes, so Blaine takes the opportunity to stretch out in all his length, and tugs at Kurt to join him. Kurt lies down as the big spoon, they sort their legs like a flowing braid, and Kurt wraps a protective arm across his waist and up towards his shoulder. The other hand is massaging his scalp soothingly, as if he already knows Blaine is dreading the upcoming conversation.

"The State of Ohio says you're a year older than us…" Wes mumbles, as if he's questioning the authorities. "But how? We've always been in the same class."

"Wes," David says. David has always been more silent than Wes, but that's probably because he usually spends some time thinking before he talks. It wouldn't surprise Blaine if he's already put the pieces together.

It's Nick who concludes first, though.

"It was because of the damn dance, wasn't it?"

"It's not the dance's fault," Blaine says.

"No. It was the assholes that attacked you and Toby," Nick says calmly. Almost too calmly. Jeff rubs his back, whispering something in his ear, and he leans in onto Jeff's body.

"I was a Sophomore when _that_ happened," Blaine sighs. Sometimes he forgets that Nick also went through an attack before he came to Dalton, and is sufficiently furious about the unfairness for the both of them.

"And you joined us our Sophomore year," David continues. "Because you had to redo it." He doesn't ask, he concludes.

"Too much time spent in hospital and with recovery," Blaine shrugs, although it's anything but easy to think about. Basically, those faceless, nameless attackers robbed him for a year, and then left him with PTSD and a cranky hip.

The boys are silent for a while, and Kurt holds him closer towards his chest.

"But it's kind of a good thing, that you're still a Senior," Jeff begins, earning himself some confused looks. "Just imagine how it'd be with you in college and Kurt still here," he adds, and the other boys nod in understanding.

"Maybe," David says hesitantly, "it had to happen. Maybe it was faith. Without your transfer, you wouldn't have met Kurt at all."

Blaine is silent. He has never thought about the Sadie Hawkins dance as kismet or anything like that, he's never been able to think about it as something good. If he could do it again, he would have stayed home from that dance. But then there's Kurt.

Kurt, who's running a hand slowly up and down his arm, and kisses his shoulder.

"I'd like to think we would have met somehow anyway," Kurt says sweetly.

"That's so cheesy!" Wes giggles.

"Yes," David agrees, and Kurt groans. "But it's the really expensive gourmet cheese, like imported French Brie or Norwegian goat cheese handmade by voluptuous milk maids."

Blaine can't help but laugh at his friends' antics. Kurt is burrowing his face in his neck, but Blaine can feel him trembling behind him from suppressed laughter.

Nick is kind enough to click on the remote control, pulling the attention back to the pictures they've been watching. The boys run a never-ending commentary of what they see. Jeff cracks and laughs in falsetto when Nick stops by a particularly awesome picture. It shows Kurt and Tina leaning against each other, laughing with tears in their eyes, and Mercedes stands doubled. They are watching Santana being chased by Puck, who's holding two big balloons up by his chest.

"Your friends share a special brand of crazy," David says dryly.

The next picture is of Kurt trying to give Finn a piggy-ride, and then there's a picture of Sam, Mercedes, Kurt and Blaine in a group hug.

"But I love them nevertheless," Kurt shrugs.

"Don't you miss them?" Nick asks.

"Every single day."

"And still you're here."

"It's not like I wouldn't have missed all of you if I had transferred back to McKinley. Besides, I want my Senior year to be amazing, and I decided I deserve to finish high school on a high note. So yes, I'm still here."

The boys coo at him, and Blaine tugs Kurt closer, lacing their fingers together. Yes, their Senior year is and will continue to be amazing.

* * *

Yesterday's headache is gone with the wind, and Blaine's managed to score some alone-time with Kurt in his room. Nick is with Jeff, and had unprompted informed them that he wouldn't be back until curfew. Homework obligations are completed, Kurt has fussed sufficiently over the upcoming Warbler weekend and what he needs to pack before they leave, phones are set on silent, and Blaine has Kurt exactly where he wants him. And that is on his back in bed, shirt unbuttoned and pushed aside to reveal most of his stunning torso, and with a very, very lucky Blaine half on top of him.

Blaine got inspired by Kurt, and has begun to change out of uniform as soon as classes and Warblers are done for the day. Sometimes he ends up in comfortable lounge clothes, perfect for lazy days. But sometimes he has the time to pull together a better outfit, and it's worth it for how Kurt's eyes light up at the sight of him in one of his brightly coloured jeans, a matching polo shirt and a bowtie, a knitted cardigan or sweater if the old buildings are cold from pre-autumn winds. He forgot about the bowtie today, in his rush to get to Kurt, and maybe that's for the best, as his t-shirt landed on the floor long time ago.

Kurt had been glad and eager to see him, and they easily fell to bed, kissing and sucking and licking and nibbling and running their hands all over the vast amount of warm, naked skin. Blaine loves it when they have time for this, and when Kurt is all pliant and wanting with him. He loves the feeling of his naked skin against Kurt's equally naked skin. It's as if they are as close as physically possible, and sometimes Blaine just can't get enough of him and isn't sure he's expressing well enough how much this means to him, and he could crawl under Kurt's skin if it was possible. But to lay down on top of him, chests flushed together, Kurt's strong and slender arms around him, touching his soft skin, chests moving in symphony, and sometimes even feeling Kurt's heartbeats against him… It's almost too much. But, only almost.

It's not that they often get the chance to make out shirtless like this – usually they are busy with their commitments – homework, Warblers, fencing, student council, or they have to catch up with friends and family, or they are surrounded by people who are cancelling out any chance of privacy. But sometimes they get the chance to indulge in each other beyond sweet kisses, hand holding, innocent cuddling, deep conversations, and inside jokes. Blaine often gets lost in this, in having Kurt so close, being allowed to watch and explore his beauty, let his fingers run over planes of muscles, kissing and tasting him all over, discovering which spots make Kurt shiver and which spots make him moan breathlessly.

And that's often the point at which Kurt will turn abruptly silent, loosen his hold around Blaine, feel somewhat stiffer in his arms, and get a faraway look in his eyes. It's a crash landing that pulls Blaine mercilessly out of his own bliss. Which of course is a good thing, because he doesn't want to be that kind of boyfriend, who continues to get his mack on, while his boyfriend is uncomfortable.

The problem is that Blaine isn't sure what prompts Kurt to pull the brakes. He hasn't been able to reveal a pattern, if there is something Blaine does each time it happens. He can be nosing at his belly button, or he can be scraping his teeth along Kurt's clavicle, he can be nibbling at his ear lobe, or he can be simply kissing him deeply. No matter what Blaine does, sometimes he'll hit what must be a limit for Kurt.

And that's okay. Of course it's okay, he won't push him. But he hates to see Kurt so tense and uncomfortable, and wishes he knew how to stop just before it happens, while it still feels good for the both of them. Blaine tries to ask in the heat of it all if this feels good, if he may please do this, and bluntly ask what Kurt is feeling or thinking. And everything is very, very fine. Until it isn't. So Blaine backs off, watches Kurt get dressed with his back to him, and then they snuggle under the covers, and Blaine lets out his inner cuddle monster. Which is also very nice, no hard feelings there. It's just confusing. And to be honest, it hurts a little. Blaine wants to be a good boyfriend, and it isn't easy to be that when Kurt refuses to talk about it, just dismisses it as being cold, having to pee, thinking he heard someone, or any other whimsical excuse Blaine isn't really buying. It leaves him feeling rejected, like a failure with no possibility to make amends.

It doesn't help his self-esteem that Blaine more often than not is the one who initiates whenever they're making out. He does so very carefully, never pushing beyond what they've already done, making sure Kurt is comfortable, so he can be comfortable. He knows Kurt is bold, can be a take no prisoners-kind of guy. He's no damsel in distress needing to be wooed – he's fierce and determined and passionate. Blaine's seen him perform. Blaine's seen him fight with Mercedes. Blaine's seen him hug his dad after admonishing him about salt and fried food. Kurt does it all a hundred and ten per cent. But when he's with Blaine, moving towards something resembling intimacy, he seems to be holding back. Blaine gets a feeling that he isn't giving completely in, as if he isn't as absorbed and engulfed by it as Blaine is. It makes Blaine sad, a little devastated, quite puzzled, and again, a rejected failure. Maybe Blaine isn't what Kurt wants anymore? Or maybe he isn't living up to expectations? Maybe he's missing the mark by a mile, and is clueless at navigating himself towards the goal?

And whenever he asks Kurt "tell me what you want me to do?" or "how does this feel?", Kurt blushes far down his chest, ducks his head, and as always answers "this is nice". He kisses back when Blaine kisses him, he touches Blaine when Blaine roams his hands over Kurt's skin, and he quickly unbuttons his shirt when Blaine pulls it out of his pants and asks with his eyes. He never says yes when Blaine asks if it's too much, if he should stop. It all seems very, very nice, for the both of them.

Until it isn't, that is.

At which point Blaine smiles softly, reassuringly at him, pulls his shirt or sweater back on, and lays down with his arms around Kurt's waist and head pillowed on his chest, or the other way around, and Kurt runs a hand through his hair, seemingly lost in thought.

Blaine wishes Kurt would consider him worthy of being let in on his thinking.

* * *

"Okay, any more questions about Warbler Weekend? No?" Wes knocks the gavel determinedly on the Council desk. "So, we'll meet at the parking lot tomorrow at 3 PM, and the car pooling is organized per earlier information folder. Finally, we'd like to introduce our latest Warbler."

There's an instant ruckus in the room. Auditions have been held, and the 14 selected Warblers have been announced. There's a murmur of polite objections, because some have friends who didn't make the final cut, and some are curious to know this instant who their latest addition is.

"Dalton has a new transfer student, who arrived today. To save time, he's already auditioned for the Council during lunch hour, so he's ready to join us this weekend," Thad informs them.

Some of the Freshmen offer their objections.

"This is no different than when Kurt transferred in November and was allowed to audition and join us," David explains calmly. "We've always made exceptions for transfer students, because they don't occur often."

"But it's only been a week since auditions," someone objects, and Kurt squirms under the attention suddenly directed towards him.

Wes gives them a stern look that calms everybody down.

David and Thad get up from their chairs, and move to open the heavy double oak doors.

"Gentlemen, give a hand for our newest member," Wes encourages slash directs. The other two Council members open the door, and in steps a tall, slender built boy with really stylish hair and a confident and eager expression on his face.

"Gentlemen," he greets them with a nod, and it seems as if he looks at each and every one of them. "It's a pleasure being a part of this group of outstanding young men. I can't wait to get to know you all better," he says cockily, eyes landing on Blaine. "I am Sebastian Smythe."


	9. Speed Dating

**Hello everybody! I hope you're still enjoying this story! And I hope I didn't scare anyone off with introducing Sebastian in my last chapter - I promise he won't make too much trouble.**

**I've decided to join NaNoWriMo this year, because apparently what I need while writing two different WIP's is to write on a third thing... It might affect the pace of my writing for this story in November, but I'm not neglecting it, so stay tuned ;)**

**I'm staying spoiler free for Season 5, and hope you all will respect that.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or anything you recognize.**

* * *

"I'm so excited!" Blaine beams, bouncing on his feet as he loads their belongings into his car.

"Yes, I know," Kurt says less enthusiastically, "Warbler Weekend will be a blast."

"Oh Kurt, no, I'm not talking about that. I'm thinking about our impending adventure. We're headed for a classic road trip," he grins, and gestures dramatically before carefully closing the trunk.

"It's a forty minutes long drive," Kurt deadpans. The parking lot is deserted, as the rest of the Warblers have already left.

"Exactly. Plenty of time to experience all kinds of excitement!" he skips over to Kurt.

Blaine had volunteered his car for the car pool, but unfortunately – or fortunately, depending on point of view – he only has two seats, so there are no room for anyone but him and Kurt. He spent lunch taking the car to the closest car wash. The car is sparkling clean, and that's why he dares to push Kurt firmly up against it, crowding his space, and kissing him sweetly. Kurt tugs him closer, deepening the kiss, and Blaine can't help but moan softly into his pliant mouth. He grabs Kurt by the shoulders, and walks him towards the front of the car, as difficult as it is when he can't seem to stop kissing him. He carefully pushes Kurt backwards, so he sits on the hood of his car. Blaine smiles crookedly at him, and Kurt rolls his eyes, but scoots up. Blaine beams as he crawls after him, and straddles his lap to kiss him again.

"Does this make me your _Pink Lady_?" Kurt murmurs teasingly.

"Shut up," Blaine chuckles.

Kurt lowers himself until he's flat on his back on the hood, and Blaine leans down to deepen the kiss, being careful not to squash his boyfriend. He hums when he feels the light pressure of Kurt's hands against the back of his knees, holding him there.

Finally, the need for air overwhelms him to pull back somewhat. He runs a hand down Kurt's cheek, in awe of how beautiful he looks, especially after kissing like that: Pupils blown wide and darker, a delicate blush across his cheekbones, and lips all red and glistening; so tempting to taste one more time.

"You're amazing."

"So are you. And God knows what kind of power you have over Wes, that makes it okay to be late for this weekend."

"The only thing happening between now and 5 PM is check-in at the hotel. And he knows I'm taking you out for a speed date," Blaine says, sitting back on his haunches. Kurt's hands move to rest on the side of his calves.

"A speed date?" Kurt quirks an eyebrow.

"You heard your man," Blaine smirks.

"You're ridiculous," Kurt laughs.

"I know. And still you let me do this," he grins, leaning down for a kiss. "The thing is, it's been really hectic coming back to school, and we haven't really had any time to be alone just the two of us, and especially not finding the time for a date. So I was hoping the next two hours or so could be for us, with us."

"And I'm guessing the theme of the date is cars?" Kurt smiles sweetly, with a hint of tease, at him. Blaine nods. "Well then, kind sir, take me to your chariot."

"Technically, we're already on my…"

"You moron," Kurt laughs, and swats his shoulder. "Did you plan for us to do anything more than make out in the parking lot? Because as nice this is, it isn't really the epitome of romance."

"I know I've said I'm terrible at romance, but come on, have some faith in me, will you?"

"Always," Kurt says seriously, resting on his elbows, and leaning up to kiss him.

Blaine jumps down from the hood, and gives Kurt a hand to escort him safely to the ground. He opens the passenger door for Kurt, and Kurt bats his eyelids at him exaggeratedly. Even though he's joking, Blaine can't help but swoon. There's hardly a thing Kurt does that doesn't affect Blaine, or so it seems. And for some reason, he looks absolutely beautiful today. They are still in uniforms, no time to change before departure, but they've shed their blazers, and Blaine has rolled up the sleeves of his shirt on this hot last day of August.

He gets in the car on the driver's side, and finds his bright purple sunglasses from the glove department. Kurt has found his own pair, merely black, but stylish. Blaine connects his iPod to the car stereo, and Kurt opens both windows.

"I bet you wish this car was a convertible right now."

"That would have been so cool," Blaine gushes. "But in two weeks time, probably completely useless with the wet Ohioan autumns." He scrolls to the playlist he's prepared. The voice of Janis Joplin fills the car.

"Or, you know, a _Mercedes Benz_ would probably also do it," Kurt winks at him, and Blaine can't help but beam back at him.

"Are you ready?"

"I don't know for what, but yes, I am."

"You're the best," Blaine gushes as he takes the car out of the parking lot.

They don't have long to go before their first stop. Blaine pulls up in front of a Dairy Queen.

"Milkshakes," he says to Kurt's questioning expression. "We can't do this road trip without milkshakes. I'd take you out for a proper meal, but we have mandatory dinner with the Warblers at five, so I didn't think you'd want to eat much now."

"You're right about dinner, but I don't mind a milkshake," Kurt says as he unbuckles.

Blaine insists on paying for them. He picks chocolate and Kurt orders strawberry, and both know they'll trade several times because they can never really make up their mind about which flavour they prefer.

The music player continues to _Mustang Sally_ when they start driving again.

"So what was that all about, if I may ask?" Kurt asks, and gestures out of the front window.

"The kiss?"

"The making out on top of your car, yes."

"It's been a fantasy of mine for a while," Blaine admits bashfully.

"Really?" Kurt asks, sounding disbelieving.

"Yes, and today you looked particularly cute, so I just had to take advantage of that."

"Cute."

"I don't even know when it began," Blaine continues to explain. "But whenever I've seen a movie where someone dating goes to a drive in, or to The Make Out Spot, I always imagined myself in the same situation, with a boyfriend and my car. And after all the times I've seen you in your coveralls this summer, that fantasy only grew stronger. But I couldn't exactly ravish you in front of your colleagues. So I've been waiting and hoping for an occasion."

"I knew you had a thing for me in coveralls," Kurt smirks, preening in fact.

"I have a thing for you in many ways. I'm glad you let me fulfil this. And I hope that you'll tell me whenever there's something you fantasize about, anything you want to try."

"I don't…" Kurt shakes his head, looking at the iPod playing .

"But you can tell me, if there's anything you need or want, or if there's something you want to change in this relationship. You can always talk to me, you know that, right?"

"I do, Blaine," Kurt smiles at him, and takes his hand. Their fingers stay linked for as long as possible, and they sing along to _Drive My Car_.

Blaine makes an exit off the main road to Columbus, and has to take his hand back on the gear shift as he makes various turns both left and right.

"Do you know where you are going, or is this part of the adventure?"

"I have a plan," Blaine winks. Not long after, he turns into a bumpy dirt road, and has to drive slowly to avoid hitting their heads on the ceiling or damage the car. He can feel Kurt's eyes on him. "You trust me, don't you?"

"Of course I do. I'm still allowed to be curiously sceptical."

Blaine can't help but laugh.

"You're really adorable."

"Hmm…"

Blaine quickly looks over at him to see what that sound was about, but he has to pay attention to where he's driving.

"We're here," he says soon after, slowing the car down and letting it roll to a halt closer to the water. He hurries over to the other side, to open the door for Kurt.

"Aren't you the gentleman," Kurt murmurs, kissing him briefly.

Blaine gives him a genteel nod, tips his invisible hat, and moves to the trunk of his car.

"Anything I can do?"

"Thank you, but I've got it covered," he smiles back and emerges with a blanket and two bottles of peach ice tea. He drapes the blanket over the hood of the car, not trusting it to still be clean after the drive.

"I so approve of today's theme," Kurt says in a flirty tone of voice that makes it tingle all the way down Blaine's spine. He jumps up on the car and pats the space between his legs. "Will you sit here?"

Blaine has no problem giving in to that wish, and gets comfortable in Kurt's embrace. He manages to lean the bottles against the windscreen wipers, so they won't roll down.

"This is a really beautiful spot," Kurt says softly, and his breath tickles against Blaine's neck. "Is this where you take all your dates?" he teases.

"Mmhmm. I've taken all my boyfriends here."

"I'm your first boyfriend."

"You're my only boyfriend," Blaine says, pulling Kurt's arms tighter around his stomach. "I've only been here with Cooper and Mom before."

"Where are we?"

"It's a twenty minutes walk through that forest on my seven years old legs, and probably five minutes by car on the road."

"You came here to swim?"

"Yeah. You can walk what felt like forever into the water, and it won't reach further than your chest. It was a really safe place to practice swimming, and Mom could relax with _Vogue_ on the beach while keeping an eye on us now and then."

"I didn't know your mother read _Vogue_."

"I'd sneak off with her magazines, reading them in secret in my room, like it was some kind of porn," Blaine chuckles. "She caught me one day, and from then on we'd read and discuss it together. And still she couldn't deal with it when I came out six months later…"

Kurt pulls him tighter to his chest, and rests his chin on his shoulder.

"She can't have seriously thought you read it to ogle the female models?"

"I've never quite understood what she was thinking that last year," Blaine says sadly, and berates himself for turning the date into a pity-party. "Anyway, she forgot to cancel her subscription when she moved out, so I kept reading. When it expired, Dad ordered a new subscription in my name without even asking me, and I've been a faithful reader ever since."

"That was really great of him."

"Yeah. I've been so hard on him, thinking he didn't accept me or love me. But then you help me remember memories like that, and I realize that he's actually quite an awesome father."

"He is. Tell me more about this beach."

"After Mom left, it took time to come back here. It's so peaceful, and there would hardly ever be any people here, so it was a place I liked to visit when I needed to think or a good cry. But this place reminded me too much of her for a long while."

While he talks, _American Pie_ is playing softly from the car, and Kurt is holding him close, brushing a thumb over his knuckles and nuzzling behind his ear. Blaine already knows today will be his new favourite memory from this place, every happy childhood memory set aside and despite of the sadness. He takes a large gulp of his ice tea.

"I didn't come back until after the attack. I wasn't strong enough to walk yet, and I most definitively wasn't allowed to drive, so Ella took me here, and picked me up again whenever I texted her I was ready to go home."

Kurt moves his right hand to cover Blaine's heart, and it's as if he can instantly feel it calming down after beating frantically as he recounted the painful memories. He turns his head to kiss Kurt's jaw.

It's still too early in the day to be able to enjoy a stunning sunset, but the water is calm, and the trees are reflected in the surface, making a quite picturesque panorama. He'll bring Kurt back later in the autumn, when the leaves are changing colour from green to every kind of yellow's and red's. Some nice evening when they are in no rush, and can enjoy a picnic under the gentle autumn sun. But for now, it's more than enough to sit here in silence with Kurt wrapped around him on this beautiful day.

They sit in comfortable silence for a long while, until Blaine double checks the antique pocket watch he's never without. It's about time to find the hotel. He squeezes Kurt's hands before extricating himself from his embrace. Again, he gives him a hand to help him down.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't able to avoid turning this date into a sad pity party," he apologizes.

"Don't say that," Kurt gently scolds him. "I've been wooed the good old-fashioned way, you've shown me a place that is special to you, and I'm still learning new things about you. It seems like a perfect date to me."

"I'm just…" Blaine sighs. "I want to be good enough for you. I want to be the boyfriend you deserve."

"Oh Blaine," he smiles, cupping his face with both hands. "_Pretty, pretty please. Don't you ever, ever feel, like you're less than fucking perfect to me!_" he sings to him.

Blaine wraps him up in a tight hug.

"You're amazing!"

He wants to say so much more, he wants to let Kurt know how he feels, he wants to use the L-word. But he wants to make it special for Kurt, he wants to save it for a perfect date. And no matter how nice this date has been, it was far from perfect. The words will hold until he can make it a really memorable moment.

* * *

When they get to the hotel, they don't have time for much more than freshening up in the bathroom in the lobby, before meeting their fellow Warblers for dinner, in uniform. The hotel looks swanky, and the alumnus that made this possible for them must have made it extremely well. Considering the amount of cars in the parking lot and people in the restaurant even at this early dinner hour, the hotel seems fully booked, or close to it.

That's why Blaine and Kurt don't hold hands after exiting the car, they reign in on their flirting glances and banter, and it isn't until they sit by a long table in the restaurant that Blaine looks sweetly at him, and wraps an ankle around his. They are surrounded by friends, and it seems as if most of them left the Dalton manners back at school. At least this is the most ruckus dinner Kurt's ever attended with his school friends.

The buffet looks deliciously tempting, and Kurt fears he'll roll out of the hotel when they check out on Monday. He says so to Nick sitting across of him.

"You know you don't have to eat everything on the table?"

"Does it look like I'm overeating?" he snorts, nodding at his plate. He's helped himself to a serving of green feta salad, chicken filet and couscous.

"I hope you're planning seconds, because there won't be any more food today. Wes warned us against fainting during rehearsal," Nick says solemnly, and Kurt doesn't doubt for a moment that Wes has said something like that.

He looks at the other boys' plates, and most of them have piles on the china, mixing scampi, steak and chicken wings in the same serving, with creamy sauces, baked potatoes and fries. He has no doubt they will plunder the dessert buffet, with puddings, pies, cakes, ice cream and French macarons.

"Wes should have warned them against stomach sting," he says sardonically. Next to him, Blaine is giggling, and briefly squeezes his knee, while continuing his conversation with Trent.

"Jeff and I have your room keys, so you don't have to check in," Nick tells him, nodding at Blaine to indicate that he's involved in their assistance. "Did you have a nice date?"

"We did," Kurt smiles widely. "It was good spending some quality time together, and he's a pretty charming boyfriend."

Nick leans in closer, and smiles at him.

"It's good to see the two of you this happy. So I hope you won't mind our surprise for you later."

"What kind of surprise?" Kurt asks warily.

"The surprise which Jeff and I will reveal later."

"You're an evil friend."

"I do my best," he shrugs, brushing his knuckles against his lapel.

"I'm sure," Kurt smirks. "So, did we miss anything important while we nurtured our hearts?"

"Wes was being anal about sharing every single detail as usual. I think you deserve the honour of a recap," Nick giggles.

"God no," Kurt mutters.

"Oh, I insist. Did you know that we have seven rooms?" Nick tells him dramatically. "The Council shares one room, so they can have their beloved strategy and evaluation meetings whenever they want. Sounds hot," Nick wiggles his eyebrows. "Apparently, it wasn't supposed to be like that, but with Sebastian, the new guy, we're 15 boys, and it was too late to get an eighth room."

"Seems fair enough," Kurt shrugs. "When the Council decided it clever to add a new member after everything was prepared, it's nice of them to deal with the consequences."

"Yeah, and I think it's good that Sebastian came to us now. We'll do a lot of stuff this weekend, and he'd be so far behind if he didn't join rehearsals until we're back."

"Oh, I agree. And wouldn't it be kind of rude if he had to sleep in a room on his own, when the rest of us are sharing? I mean, I wouldn't mind a room – and a bathroom – on my own. But this way he might get to know some of us easier. I know it isn't easy to be a transfer student," Kurt says, glancing over at their newest member.

"He's bunking with Trent, and I think maybe the Council did deliberate pairings. Trent knows everybody and is loved by everybody. He's perfect to make sure Sebastian is included."

"Good point. And I assume that's not everything Wes and the rest of the Council informed you about, even though the official program started just now with dinner."

"_You know them so well_," Nick sings.

And then he continues to talk about the program for their weekend, and how it'll be organized. They've been given access to a large seminar room for the four days, with a grand piano. The Council has brought a couple of guitars from Dalton, because even though they are an a cappella choir, they sometimes need some back up-music while learning new songs.

"It's so weird to be a member of such a prepared group," Kurt giggles. "I don't think New Directions have even started to worry about not having enough members to be allegeable for competing at Sectionals, with Puck in juvie."

"And still you managed to pull it off and be as great as you are."

"_They_. They are great. I'm Kurt Warbler, remember," Kurt winks.

"Everyone understands that your heart beats for both the Warblers and New Directions. There's nothing wrong with that. At least not until we meet them, and a trophy is involved."

"Do we know who we're up against for Sectionals yet?"

Nick shakes his head.

"Come, let's grab some dessert. I think we'll need a sugar kick before we're at the mercy of the Council."

* * *

After dinner, Kurt and Blaine head outside to pick up their luggage, and then take the elevator to the 12th floor as agreed with Jeff and Nick, to get their room keys.

Blaine knocks on door 1217, which is immediately opened by Jeff.

"Come on in, welcome to our humble abode," he greets, bowing deeply and waving wildly with his left arm.

"Jeff, what have I told you about pretending to be a butler?" Nick admonishes playfully, yanking at the back of Jeff's sweater to move him away from the door. "Please excuse my boyfriend. I _kindly_ asked him to guard the door while I changed out of uniform, to protect my dignity, but I didn't know it meant I appointed him to staff."

"Why are you out of uniform?" Kurt asks eagerly. He's dying to get out of his, if it's optional.

"Uniforms are mandatory during meals, but we're encouraged to wear work out-clothes for rehearsals. Excessive side-stepping can be exhausting, as you know."

"I'll take any excuse to let the blazer rest for a while," Kurt laughs. "Let me know where I can change, I don't intend to moon you."

"Okay, so here's the deal," Nick begins, and Blaine plops down on his bed. Kurt is standing by his suitcase, foot tapping impatiently against it. "Jeff and Kurt are paired in one room, and Blaine and I in this. I don't know how modern Dalton regulations are, but I'm pretty sure the administration wouldn't allow the Council to assign people who are dating the same room. But we don't think it's a coincidence that the four of us are roomed together like this. If Blaine and Jeff switch room keys, we'll have the perfect solution, and get to spend three wonderful nights together."

"But that would mean breaking the rules," Kurt concludes.

"Only if they explicitly state that Dalton students dating cannot share a bed – and that implies someone thought about it as a possibility back then."

"But it's still navigating a grey area, trying to dodge something."

"Look," Jeff says, "we're not gonna force you, obviously. But David gave us four keys, telling us to give you _the keys you need_ when you caught up with us. I'm pretty sure it was his way of saying this is okay. I doubt there will be any room checks, as long as we show up to every meal and appointment. Which we obviously will, because we aren't that bad horn dogs."

"Bullshit," Nick coughs, and Jeff throws a deodorant stick on him.

"As if you ever complain!"

Nick and Jeff continue to bicker about who is the bigger horn dog, while Kurt and Blaine silently communicate with their eyes. They've shared a bed before, but never three nights in a row. Besides, Blaine is student president, and Kurt assumes it makes him an even firmer stickler to rules than usual. Blaine slides up to his side.

"I understand if you think it's too much, too soon," he whispers while caressing Kurt's shirt cuffs. "But I'd love to bunk with you while we're here. It'll give us some private cuddle time in between a hectic program."

Kurt can't really object to logic like that, can he?

* * *

**Songs mentioned:**

Janis Joplin – _Mercedes Benz  
_Wilson Pickett – _Mustang Sally  
_The Beatles – _Drive My Car  
_Don McLean – _American Pie  
_P!nk – _Fuckin' Perfect_


End file.
